Broken Antler Fen well I'mma go down on a railroad track

Guiding him home. She barrelled toward him, his own form tense as he saw the streak of pallid fur, unable to stop himself from passing the borders and closer to her embrace. She clung to him—his own muzzle wrapping her as tightly to him as he could, his nose burying itself into her fur—ever so familiar, and yet...

... the scent of milk was deep upon her. Quizzical, the champagne eyes of the shadowrunner roved over her, realizing the softness and warmth of her body was also from the strain of carrying pups.

His heart wrenched, and he swallowed thickly, unable to bring himself to ask—had she sought the arms of another? Worse still, had another forced them self upon her? He exhaled sharply, leaning forward to press his forehead to hers intimately, to press his muzzle next to hers and steal this moment without consequence. I missed you, was what he could offer, his voice rough from disuse.