Silver Moraine [m] i'll cut the soft pockets, let bleed

sometime during their wordless coupling, it dawns on the wraith —

this is it. this is the scent that had drawn him in; the one that had set the mood for his first sexual encounter, the one that had caused the friction and clumsiness of his introduction to romance. and it's coming from him. the implications settle heavily over him as he parts from the dark stranger. zephyr hardly acknowledges his presence at first, suffocating under the weight of his thoughts. fatherhood — a curse, a burden he'd sworn he would never bear after his father wore it with so little grace. kavik had let the mantle fall from his shoulders, had let it crush his children and fragment their development. he'd left them stunted and splintered, and zephyr has always known that he could never truly be suited to such a role, lest he leave his own children with the same scars.

yet here he is, plunging into unfamiliar waters with no thought toward the consequences. he thinks of wintersbane, then, and shivers a little. surely the man had known. after all — who else could have left all those other wolves with heavy bellies? the thought leaves him feeling hollow.

finally, he looks to his companion. i have to admit, he starts, sounding more collected than he feels. i only realized i'm in heat about a minute ago. a slight pause, and he sucks in a breath, then continues with a hint of humor to his tone, so... how do you feel about children?