Whitebark Stream is it a sin to find

he's looking for @Kaori but there's no obligation! <3

several days have come and gone with the rise and fall of the sun and the moon in their respective cycles since salvatore, on a whim, had sought the advice of artyom. try as he might, salvatore is haunted by the pale man's words of destiny has a funny way of bringing wolves together. the blackbird isn't so sure how much he believes in destiny because if it existed then it has been unfairly unkind to his mother but salvatore cannot not deny that regardless of what he did or did not believe in that if kaori was pregnant the cubs bound them together.

salvatore spent his whole life thus far proving to himself that he wasn't like killgrave and there was no better chance to prove it than this circumstance. salvatore doesn't call out for the dragoness, not wanting to raise suspicion. instead, he seeks a trail that he thinks is most recent, though the heavy snows of the day before make it hard to tell.

Following her return from the neighbouring Maplewood, Kaori was yet to leave the pack’s land again; she did not want to travel far and the snowfall the day prior served as reason enough to go nowhere. There were many she was yet to familiarise herself with, many that she knew she should get to know—but she kept to herself anyway. Whilst the dragoness was far more open nowadays than in her youth, that did not keep her fears at bay following her coupling with the scarred man. She did not fear what might result from it, the thought of motherhood not only enticing but something she knew about—after all, she did have a hand in the rearing of her younger siblings, as did the rest of her family. But the days leading up to the discovery, whether the seed would take root or not unknown, was nerve-wracking, to say the least.

Seeking a distraction, Kaori put herself to work that day. After discovering a cluster of birch trees within the surrounding woodland—few of which were nearly felled by the beavers, lingering at an angle, cradled and kept from collapsing by the other birches—she began digging. When Salvatore found her that day, she would be digging through the snow at the base of the fallen birches, seeking to carve a den into the earth below.

as salvatore follows the trail, her scent grows stronger with each step that he takes, affirming that he's on the right trail. the icy sharpness of the winter air; clean and crisp burns slightly as he takes a deep breath, holding it in his lungs before releasing it. for the first time in his life, perhaps, salvatore draws forward with a flutter of nervousness in the pit of his stomach. where the confidence he once harbored? melted away at the uncertainty of how she would react to him and then how dawn would react to their coupling because, as artyom has pointed out, they would need to tell her, too.

the sound of snow shifting with deciding purpose is enough to draw him from the nervous flutter of his stomach and singular emberglow eye soon finds kaori: a swath of starless night against the snow and thick rooted base of the fallen birches. nesting, maybe? in the wake of facing her, of the potential consequences of their coupling — which he can't bring himself to regret no matter how terrified the idea made him — whatever armor he's built up to handle the abuse of his conquerer father is no where to be found.

❝kaori,❞ he calls out to her, a bit awkwardly, stopping a good distance away. just in case her reception is less than welcoming ( not that he would blame her ). ❝are you ...?❞ question is cut off abruptly as he changes his mind mid-inquiry. ❝how are you?❞

The ground, frozen solid, was only just scraped by her nails when a voice sounded from behind; focused on the task at hand, she didn’t hear his approach and was visibly startled by the suddenness of his voice. Her actions were brought to an immediate end whilst her body jolted upright, turning shortly thereafter to face the culprit—and upon seeing a familiar face, she was put at ease, panic reined in and thumping heart slowing. And then she fully grasped to whom the face belonged and she could feel her nerves building back up again.

“Salvatore,” she returned, offering a friendly smile; although nervous, she knew she should have expected another meeting with him. After what happened, she would have been more surprised to never see him again than she currently was. “I am… well.” Overall, that is. She could hear her own heart pounding in her chest, could feel the twitching of her own skin, laced with anxiety. But these details she did not—could not—share with him; all she felt to tell him was that she was fine, in health, the chaos unfolding within unspoken.

“And you?” she asked, far more eager to focus on him than herself. “How have you been… since…” She trailed off and bit down on her inner cheek, uncertain. Did he even want to talk about that? Maybe he simply wished to forget—was that why he was there, to ask her to do the same? Could she, if so?

he startles her; unintentionally, and offers her a sheepish and apologetic twitch of his lips as she turns to face him, his name on her lips. her smile is friendly and it soothes the worst of his fears if only a smidge. i am ...well. salvatore feels himself nodding, relieved to hear it. ❝that's good to hear.❞ he gives voice to his thought(s) aloud, wondering if killgrave and stitch had some kind of similar awkward conversation. salvatore doubted it. from what sal had seen killgrave rarely acknowledged stitch outside of his bed.

and you? how have you been ...since...? she trails off there, as if she is just afraid to speak of it as he is. did she regret it? for some inexplicable reason that consideration hurts him more than her ire at him would've. the blackbird considers telling her the truth; every last anxiety ...but that feels like a lot to unpack upon her and his daddy issues were not her problem. ❝thinkin' about the future,❞ it wasn't entirely an answer but at least it wasn't a whole lie, either. he was thinking about the future and how theirs might very well be changed for ...well ever.

❝i, uh, i wanted to talk to you about that — our coupling,❞ the word feels so clumsy as it passes from his tongue. coupling?!! who the hell says that, sal? ❝i guess it's probably too early to tell,❞ but he doesn't really know. it wasn't like sex education had been anything either parent — warmonger or stitch — had deemed as an important thing to teach him. ❝but i think we should decide what happens if you are pregnant.❞

❝i mean, i won't push if you don't want me involved. i'll respect your decision. but i'd like to be involved ...if you'll allow.❞ salvatore tells her, surprised that he got the words out so smoothly; half expecting himself to stumble all over his words as the nervousness knots tighter in his stomach.

Whilst he thought of the future, she tried not to think too intensely about it. She wanted to be prepared, she truly did—but each day that passed, each day she questioned herself and whether or not anything seemed different, made her believe that she might be better off not thinking about it. At least not for the time being. And when the topic was brought up, she realised better then why, exactly, she felt better keeping herself distracted: it was terrifying. She did not regret it and knew she would not regret what might result from it, should anything, but logic did little to soothe her worries.

Uncertainty began to build within her chest, threatening to burst. She could do little more than remain silent, listening to him as he spoke, whilst trying at the same time to relax. Pregnancy she could handle, she assured herself, should she be. And children she could handle—but what he wanted, to be involved, was a new aspect of the situation that she wasn’t sure how to handle. Part of her was thrilled to hear that he did not wish for it to go forgotten, that he was actually interested in the idea of being involved, should there be anything to be involved with. But, at the same time, it terrified her—terrified her to the point where she could feel her stomach churning.

Did she want him to be involved?

Mind swirling, she sat down; still silent, thoughtful. She thought of what her mother would say in the same situation, then promptly rid herself of those very murmurings. What her mother wanted did not matter, not now, not when it was the dragoness’ life and the lives of her potential children in question. But, should they come to be, they would not be solely hers, would they?

“It is too early to tell,” were the first words to be spoken, confirming what he already knew. She felt no different, not yet, nor did she know if she even would; pregnancy affected everyone differently, after all, and she could no better guess how her body might react than any that came before her. “I did not think this far ahead,” she admitted. “Back then, at that moment, I wanted you. But since then, I will admit that I have not thought about the future that wanting may have created.” Aside from the occasional, fleeting thought of what could be, she did not allow her mind to wander; she didn’t want to get ahead of herself, nor did she wish to concoct stories in her head and then be let down by reality.

“I do not know you well, nor do you know me well,” continued the Draconid, lifting her gaze to reach his own. “But… I would like to change that. If it does turn out that I am pregnant, then I would like for you to be involved in their lives.” Saying it aloud, bringing what was previously just an idea into reality, made her all the more anxious; the pounding in her chest grew louder, thundering, to the point where she questioned whether or not he could hear it, too. “I think it is important for everyone to know their family and I will not—no, I cannot take that opportunity away from them. I cannot take you away from them.” She only wished she could have been allowed the same option, to be raised with a father that wanted to know her, that wanted to be involved. But that was of the past now, unable to be changed. And Kaori...

Kaori wanted a family for her hatchlings, one way or another.

kaori confirms what salvatore already suspects: that it is too early to tell; and salvatore considers that perhaps they were having this conversation for no reason. maybe ...maybe it wouldn't take. yet, even that thought, interestingly enough, brings with it a small rise of disappointment. for as terrified as salvatore is of the consideration a small part of him dare hopes for the chance to be more than what the warmonger had told him he'd be. he can't be sure, having never sired cubs before, but his father was far from infertile and it didn't make sense that he would randomly be.

salvatore is quiet as she speaks; attentive, listening with bated breath, holding the dragonesses gaze as it rises to meet his own. the blackbird holds it steady with his singular emberglow gaze, dead eye as unseeing as ever.

❝i'd like that,❞ salvatore murmurs in agreement to getting to know her better and her getting to know him better. even if he is a bit weary about telling the truth of whalebone loch and how he grew up. it didn't exactly make him the perfect candidate for 'father of the year', or even really give him any sort of foundation in which to approach childrearing. ❝thank you.❞ relief washes over salvatore as she tells him she would not take from him and their possible cubs the chance to get to be involved.

An agreement was made, terms met. She felt a wave of relief wash over her then, like she could breathe for the first time since this all began. She would not need to go into this alone, should there even be a this—she would have him there, too, to help. Her hatchlings would have a father, assuming any may come to be.

“I am nervous,” she told him, although a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Will you tell me more about yourself? To help distract my mind.” Anything he had to say, she would gladly take; she wanted to know him better, to assure herself that she was making the right decision by allowing him access. And she needed a distraction, something to calm her nerves.