His proximity to her only served to draw her closer, to find comfort in his presence, and Sleekwing stood tall for the both of them while Ailith’s overall demeanor drooped. There was no instantaneous fix for the sorrow she felt, for a heart could not be healed in a day’s time. When she hesitated at the border, he merely pressed his shoulder to hers once more, reassuring her that this was right, that it was ok. This was her home now as it had been before. Together they moved into the pack lands, his stride steady and assured, never pressuring her to move quickly. There seemed to be more bothering her than the prospect of coming up homeless, and so he simply walked with her, allowing his breath to cloud the cold autumn air before his snout, but saying nothing.

A single ear flicked towards her as she inhaled, and he could tell she was about to speak once more. Respectfully, he turned his lavender haloed gaze towards her. Once more she spoke with evident hesitancy, seeming uncertain in whether he would want to know whatever it was she wished to divulge in him. As she stopped so did he, keeping his eyes upon her as she continued. He clenched his teeth at the mention of Natu’s name, an action invisible to Ailith, trying to remember he was happy for his lost friend in whatever life she had chosen for herself. Steely he nodded, not wanting to break her confidence by intoning the words in a way that might make her more apprehensive.

The words that she practically whispered made his brows raise the slightest degree, surprised by her confession. More words tumble from her lips, expressing that she does not regret the life that grows within her. She speaks of her only regret being that she had not had them with a mate or her imprint. The way her face contorted slightly, almost as if she were in pain, did not go unnoticed. It was clear to Sleekwing how much this entire situation, and whatever relationship (or lack thereof) she had with her imprint, were emotionally ravaging her. The heather painted male knew all too well the pain of sharing a soul with one who would not have chosen you if they’d had the option. Even so, he still cared deeply for Malina, and he’d helped her to create the family she desired.

He does not question her about who had fathered her children, nor any other circumstance in that regard. Instead he pressed his shoulder into hers once again, keeping that firm connection between them as he urged her to continue forward at his side. To dwell in one place, so close to the perimeter of the pack she’d only just returned to no less, would not help her mentally or physically. So as he stepped forward he finally broke his personal silence, quite literally taking her confession in stride. “There is no rule or measure by which to gauge what a family is,” he said, his voice strong and firm. “When I had pups, it was with my imprint, but she raised them without me, with her mate. I am a part of their lives, but not so much as she and her mate.” He spoke of his own family as a way to divert her mind, to allow something other than the terror she felt as the prospect of having children alone. “You will not be alone here, Ailith. You will have me, and Daenerys, and the rest of the pack for support. And your pups will have friends, for there are other mother-to-be’s upon the mountain this winter.” Though he moved forward he kept his eyes upon her, knowing the paths well enough to not have to look to ensure he was going the way he wanted to. He meant every word he said, and he only hoped that when he had broken the silence, he had said something that would reassure her rather than push her further into a state of despair.