Duskfire Glacier Stuck in the middle

His movements were swift, paws met the ground with a soft thud and crunch. The everlasting snow atop the glacier ice gave hint to his approach and gave away Tzilas whereabouts, her scent changed but maintained to be identifiable for the male. A quiet hum of acknowledgment slipped past his conscience and past the hanging woodchuck, the shadow of a woman was pregnant. There was no uncertainty. A tiny speck of jealousy arrived and settled in the hotahs heart, an envious string of thoughts linked together in his mind, goading ideas of challenges. No longer were his legs moving swiftly, they slowed down to a mere walk and kept reducing their pace as the speck turned into a dark blotch. Hawk eyes scouted the icy cave, coming to rest on the outline of the entrance. The envy sickened him, though their relationship was complicated, Tzila was his friend and to devilishly harbor such a possessive mindset troubled him immensely. His troubles only furthered as confusion further muddled the murky waters. Had he fallen from his standings, into a pit of ferocious jealousy? Was he truly to blame for his break in morals? Rye refused to give his worries the dignity of being processed, there would be no conclusion to his broods because he had an inkling of an idea why his mood soured. 
Mother nature. She was anything but prude, only a confident, conniving being that sent nearly every creature back to their savage roots from time to time. Others roots were less asinine and more, practical, in the sense of furthering their bloodline or a more noble cause of wanting a family. And Rye? Well, naturally he was a good man, figures nature would tighten the delicate emotional strings into a sinister tune and play him like an orchestra. He was not obvious to her tricks and enjoyment, at least not totally but the hotah wasn't going to let his own known personal issues interject themselves where they needn't be. Ryes legs moved again, his decent into natures frozen cellar a cautious one.
There she was, her muzzle delicately skimming the top of her faintly swollen belly. A gentle decent ended with a small leap to the floor below, the vermin in his mouth bouncing obnoxiously around after Ryes landing. Small drops of blood stained the ground once the hotah settled after the jump, hopefully it would entice the belly of the vixen. However, the sight of the remnants of a fawn ripped the wind from his sails and he pathetically deflated. Despite that, and the fact his mouth was full, it wouldn't keep him from attempting to smile, his jealousy still yet to subside but again, that would not stop him from greeting a friend. Rye approached rather hurriedly, not wanting Tzila to need to get up from her position if she didn't have to and relinquished the fuzz ball from his mouth. He was willing to dote on her, Imaq and Lane too, it was his secret pleasure to indulge in when he could. Yes, he was a little one sided with his doting but it was highly likely Wintersbane, or any other male Rye knew, would raise an eyebrow to their special treatment. So sticking to women (and sick patients) was preferable and less trouble, sometimes.
"How are you feeling?" He asked quietly, sitting on his haunches. His question quickly followed by another. "Are they okay?" The number was unknown but Rye assumed it to be more than simply one, as was the normal in his mind.