Whitefish River and here we go, life's waiting to begin

backdated to around the 19th!

He stops in the middle of trailing a fresh prey scent, frustrated with how distracting his thoughts have become over the last two days. He can't stop thinking about the heat scent lurking past the borders of the nearby pack he'd stumbled on (and promptly fled from) — but he is plagued by different thoughts than most. The scent awakened something different in him, something rooted in instinct yet diluted by his own nature, and dots had started connecting.
He's never paid much attention to how things like heat and children work, though he's been exposed to them in passing throughout his life; as far as he's concerned, it simply happens, and then pups happen. Somehow. It hadn't mattered before, but it does now. Now, it's all he can think about, though it hadn't been his first thought when he caught the scent on the breeze. His first thought had been of @Evergreen, of their play that had ended so wonderfully not long ago. Thoughts of children had come later, unbidden, a sudden assault as he'd stepped across the borders. His case of baby fever hasn't faded since then, but there are too many feelings surrounding it for him to decide how he feels about it. After all, his own childhood had been a disaster; what if he brings the same to his children? What if he dies like his father did, and leaves them alone? And what about Evergreen? He doesn't even know if his partner wants children; and how does he even know that he does, for sure, after two days of thought? The questions seem endless.
He shakes his head and sighs, deciding there's only one thing to be done. He turns to find Evergreen, hoping a conversation will bring him some clarity, even if he doesn't feel ready at all.