Neverwinter Forest hurting. longing. dancing to disco music.

He did so badly wished she wouldn't cry.

His ears pinned back against his crown. Awkwardly he made way into the den, the pheasant between his jaws settled down within her reach.

Somewhere in the pales of her fur was a milky brown thing. A child.

The child.

He did not have any words that could possibly even begin to patch things up. How to explain the things he felt or why he had stirred with a mental frenzy. Perhaps...perhaps action could be the first step.

Tentatively, if she did not pull away, he wished to press his nose to her crown.