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

Artyom had not expected the bomb that Sal decided to drop. He felt dread seep into his bones as the other male begun sharing his scenario, as at once he thought of the situation that he'd found himself in with Dawn. Had this guy been following him? Spying on him? His stomach flopped at the idea of having been seen sharing a private moment with their silver-furred leader.

He'd stayed close to Dawn throughout the duration of her cycle, though could recall short periods of time that she slipped away to feed or quench thirst. She wouldn't have let Salvatore take advantage of her vulnerability, surely? Artyom would've sniffed him on her furs on her return, however, and so that fleeting fear passed as soon as it began to torment his thoughts.

No, he had to mean someone else. It was just coincidental that this encounter seemed to occur around the same time as he and Dawn's. 

"Well," he rolled a shoulder, "I guess it depends on what she wants, too. Have you asked her?" Artyom lifted a brow, fixing his comrade with a firm stare. Just who was this mystery she-wolf, and to which pack did she belong? "You know it's too soon to tell, but you know there's a possibility that it could happen, so it'd be better for you both to discuss it sooner rather than later - and be prepared."

Artyom could see that Salvatore felt torn, and it roused great sorrow in him to think that his accidental offspring might grow up without a father because he was too cowardly to stick around. "I found myself in a similar position this year, but it was a choice I made and do not regret it."