Stone Circle Old bones don't lie

An.. Ocean? "No," he defensively said at the question of the ocean, whipping his head away and huffing into his own shoulder. His lip tightened up. Him? Not knowing what an ocean was? Something about not knowing what he was talking about made him WILDLY uncomfortable, but there was that pull of wonder. Squinting his eyes, he sniffed his nose and softened his tone up. "What's that?" He didn't know what it was. So, it was probably something dumb and weird!

Pups? He'd not known that. Who was pregnant? Oh, god, this wasn't one of those weird pound cults, was it? His ears started to shift around, airplaning one down at a time in thought. Who could be pregnant? He'd need to deal with grubby babies? Bonnie didn't know if he liked babies, and suddenly he wasn't keen on finding that out, but from the inevitable sound of it, he was going to.

Wait, no.

That made sense.

Gunnar was an old ball of mashed up farts, of course there were some babies bouncing around somewhere. How else was he going to live on? For all Bonnie knew, he fathered half the females here. He figured he'd have smelled it, but maybe his nose was running foul. That and whatever affairs were sitting around, He didn't care to dive into the packs sappy romantic sloppy bedroom life.

Slow nods proceeded to evolve into one big firm one, coupled with a 'hm'. He could hunt. He was good at that. Bonnie did offer his help around, so he would.