Whitebark Stream Lumiere, darling.

She turned to him, eyes of liquid bronze soft beneath her lashes, and the curve of her smile brought forth one of his own. Artyom eased their pace to halt by the river side so that she could press her flank to his, and he was content to bask in the serenity of this rare moment. 

"Selfish?" He scoffed, feigning outrage at the mere suggestion that Dawn Morningside could ever think only of herself. "You? Never. I am all yours." Artyom, despite the strain on him by recent ill fortune on their pack, hoped she knew that. He'd been sole Alpha in the long months since Dawn stepped down to provide the best start for their brood, but he hoped he'd provided adequate support for her first and foremost. "I'd do anything for you, Dawn."