“My heart, I am indeed, Fen. I am quite well.” she replies to him, mind positively swimming with needs and wants and knowledges of former mates. he knows she will be growing restless of late, that they ought go find denning and that he best begin doing his runs again to prepare himself for the intense months of hunting in winter to satisfy her cravings that would be positively preposterous no matter the logic she normally possessed. even the most intelligent woman seemed to grow a fondness for berries - strange - and salmon - um, winter and ice, ladies? - and tender fawn haunch.
truly, his mind was racing, criss crossing it’s own tracks to try and be patient enough for her to announce what he had anticipated in a way his red brother had not in his mate nor neirin would ever have the pleasure of knowing of his own. perhaps seamus had known simply because of him imprint bond - strongest fenrir himself had ever seen in any but neirin’s and his own parents or his own.
she ducks to embrace him, his muzzle feeling the soft growing winter coat that would soon be thicker than he had ever seen on her as she rubbed and retreated.
his smile is so minute that many might have thought he hadn’t at all - as ever - but it is gentle and warms even the death-like pale green of his eyes. he can see that she is quite well and perhaps that smile tells her just how patient he is being, how polite, how willing to let her cheer and play the giddy young spirit of the forest with him. he fidgets - (beware the end of the world) - in the barest way in his toes and smiles just a meager bit bigger as she spins to show herself off and remains still to play innocent or dumb, a small tilt of his head teasing her.
"Fenrir... We are to have children."
that is when the dam breaks and the largest smile crosses his face. his whoop of a holler is one of jubilation and he skitters forward, torn between being gentle with the mother and wanting to barrel her over like a young man having newly been made a female’s mate. he laughs in loud guffaws that show his voice could have power, that it was not always the airy wisp of death-in-the-night and could come forth as death-in-elation-bursting-heart.
his tail thuds the earth, his tongue so fervently washing her face that it nearly reaches the top bridge from its wrapping beneath her chin more than once.
he is wordless in most of his sounds until he can bear not to make small buffeting embraces and washing her face, her paws, her nose, her ears, with kisses. till he can settle himself on his own paws just to be able to breath in great gasping breaths of elation without pestering her with his boyish foolishness. “i believe we shall have many, my light. you are most certainly larger than i have seen -- it is something of immense pride and yet great peril… shall i hunt for you? shall we go fetch a den fit for the children of our passions?”
FENRIR
the dragonborn ; of scotavia
male | 17 years | 37 inches | 150 pounds
tactician of the fantastic four | mate of natu
father of : abel, alexander, alistair, ankh (x natu)
sire of : weylin (x charlemagne), taliesin (x doe)
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