You forgot to say goodbye… when you left.

Peyote blinked once or twice and appeared briefly puzzled. It wasn’t that he swore he had said goodbye and didn’t know why she couldn’t remember, but that it had never occurred to him that he needed to. He blew a huff of warm air at her, stirring her droplet-dampened dark hair. Peyote’s eyes moved over her pretty, slender face, and he felt that same restlessness stirring up wildly in his chest. Just looking at her made him want to move. Somehow he managed to maintain a sense of control and when he moved his boldly white face up toward her forehead, he was slow and gentle about it. He only moved enough to place a soft, tender kiss upon the brilliant white star peeking through the part in her forelock, then tucked his chin back and met her eyes again.

“No goodbyes.” He said simply, and his voice was hushed and quiet, and in a tone hardly anyone had ever heard him use. Rivka inspired that often out of Peyote; she was allowed access to so many pieces of himself that would remain forever closed off to the rest of the world. Whether that was a curse or a blessing for her was yet to be determined.

Peyote reached for her again, unable to resist the temptation, and went to kiss and nibble along the graceful slope of her neck and down to her shoulder. He pressed his nose near the swell of her belly and perked his ears at it, blinking as realization dawned at why Rivka’s sides might be more swollen than the last time they saw one another. His prior season was the first where he had been old enough to tip-toe (often stumble) into romantic entanglements, not that he understood their depth or impact. His time with Rivka, though, entangled in the cave with the heat of their bodies and the humid wetness of the air pressing together, was the furthest he’d ventured yet.

And now?

Peyote tucked his chin back to his broad chest, eyes pulling slowly away from the subtle curve of her belly and back to catch her gaze. He did not speak again, did not ask anything along the lines of whether or not the child she was carrying was a result of their night together. Peyote knew. As clueless as he was about some things, this he knew.

Instead, the excitable way he’d been throwing his body about and shuffling his hooves seemed to disappear within an instant. He became still and calm. When his gaze moved across Rivka’s face, it was softened with concern. Peyote looked at her over studiously, making certain that carrying his child hadn’t harmed her in any way. Once he was satisfied he nodded and met her eyes again, then allowed a happy smile to slowly move across his lips. “Ours.” He said, plainly, and his smile deepened.