Whitebark Stream There are names across the sea, only now I do believe.

salvatore spends the better part of the morning trying not to panic over what kaori and him had done and what it could mean. in the heat of the moment; driven by desire and defiance of everything killgrave had ever told him he hadn't cared. even the day before, he lingered in a veil of satisfaction and bliss that he cannot ever recall feeling before. this morning, however; reality hit him hard. she might be pregnant and what am i gonna do if she is?. would she want him involved? does he want to be involved? the second is harder for him to puzzle out — his experience with father's is extremely poor and — and...

he takes a deep breath of the frigid air; as if that might chase away the hangover-like feelings he was going thru now. it helps, if only a little.

and he didn't need to have all the answers right now, he tells himself; especially because it was far too soon to tell if it'd taken. these thoughts calm the worst of his nerves and allow him to focus on his path, following the snaking bank of the frozen stream; steps slowing as he realizes that the white mound in the nearing distance has a distinct canine shape. a low chuff of greeting is given as salvatore comes to a stop a few feet away, head tilted ever-so-slightly to focus the ivory and golden male in his emberglow gaze.