Whitebark Stream cerno

Emperor? Was that what they called an Alpha, wherever Germanus had come from? It sounded powerful, regal, like the title of someone to be feared, and entirely unlike anything Artyom ever claimed to be. He rolled a shoulder smoothly. No, he was just Artyom. Artyom the leader, the husband, the father.

Artyom the wolf.

"I don't wish to reserve breeding rights just for myself," the gilded ranger answered. He could next season, perhaps, should the pack struggle with their numbers through the Winter. Whitebark had been more than capable of supporting Grezig's pups when she and Kavik turned up on their borders in desperation, and Kaori's litter had been a happy surprise in his opinion; he wasn't sure he had the heart to turn away a family in need.

He looked over at the newcomer, warmth in the curve of his smile. "Four of them are mine," the leader shared, "and we have Grezig and Kavik, who were pregnant when they came to us. One of our healers, Kaori, is our newest mother with two boys - their father perished in a hunting accident before their birth." Ah, Salvatore. He'd been a fearful expectant parent, but Artyom wished only to see the best in him. He felt sure that he'd have been a proud father.

"Eight children, overall," he concluded cheerfully, "all thriving, and all with great potential."