Zevulun barely exhaled, but when he did the sounds of a laugh chased the edges of his breath. His eyes moved to Avalon as her lips gently ran over the skin of his neck. Unable to help himself, Zevulun lifted his head and reached out, laying his muzzle against her cheek and breathing deep and soft, inhaling both her scent and his daughters. His family. What good had he done in this life to have been given something as perfect and precious as this?
He pulled gently away from Avalon, smiling at her as he did, to once again look upon their daughter. Concern briefly touched his gaze at the sight of her trembling legs. “Poor thing must be exhausted,” he said gently, as if he was afraid to talk too loudly in this moment.
“Have you already picked a name?” He glanced at Avalon, curious. He hadn’t thought of any ideas for names (briefly he’d wondered if his sisters would have been touched if he had a son and named it for their father), and suddenly was struck with the realization that he probably should have. Hopefully Avalon was a step ahead of him and was already prepared for this predicament. He looked back at their little girl and thought how monumental a responsibility this was…
But he wasn’t afraid. Zevulun was more than ready to face whatever may come of being a father head-on and he’d never do a thing to let this little girl or her beautiful mother down.
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