It was beyond him, how he could inspire such sweet, relieved sighs from the woman. He will never understand it, but instead of struggling against the sheer wrongness of the facts before him, he quiets his mind and simply accepts. He draws his own strength and comfort from the simplest brush of her skin, and while he can scarcely believe he does the same for her, he can't judge her for it either. Nor would he ever dream of denying her something that clearly brought her even a modicum of relief. So long as she was safe, he would fight to preserve anything that brought her happiness. 

The silence is a simplistic being as it settles between them. He takes no insult in her lack of response, because he knows the aspect of strangers still lingers between them. There is no comfort she can offer that would not be hollow. What she doesn't know is that even his most beloved of companions could not convince him of their sincerity either. At least he had been given the chance to let the words flow sour and bitter off his tongue, drip like acid upon the earth to scorch the moment into his records. He hadn't been able to admit it to anyone before, and her silence could not remove the cathartic relief that swept up inside his chest, an unstoppable reaction. 

Her softly spoken words, a mere whisper, did not condemn or pity him in their tones. "Thank you," he murmured plainly in response, with nothing left to offer where words stood insufficient. He suspected that even his mastery of the Helovian dialect could not account for the entirety of any language, that no words existed to describe how he felt in that moment. How he felt about her in general. 

Through her stuttering he is patient, a rock for her to lean on, a guiding light through whatever storm had chased her back into his embrace. When it finally fell from her lips, it felt as though his own electricity had turned against him, stunning him into utter silence. What? He stared at her dumbly, as her revelations spun wildly into apologies he would never have her make. His tongue felt thick, like cotton choking up his throat until his eyes were wet with tears that preceded the realization of his own emotions. "Pregnant?" Kaj croaked, heart thundering in his chest, a storm in its own right. And just like a storm it broke, shattering the stillness that had encased him, and he exploded from it in a flurry of his own convoluted emotions. 

But dominant among them was happiness - sheer joy, undiluted and passionate as he danced in place before her, wings arching in a proud display of his own excitement. "Don't apologize!" the man cried, hastily reaching forward and touching her anywhere his grinning muzzle could reach, shifting spots quickly in his own euphoria. "I've always wanted a foal," he whispered, eyes shining with the lights of heaven itself. Distracted, happy tears creased along the corners of his eyes. "No, it wasn't expected. And I know I'm not your mate but..." it was hard to form words when all he wanted to do was spiral into the sky and trumpet his hysterical success, this gift from the gods that had betrayed him time and time again. 

"I'm so happy," he croaked instead, because the words all felt so horribly inadequate. "Anything you want, anything you need Sohalia I will do it. We can do this," Kaj assured her, excitement buzzing in his words, manifesting in joyous sparks that curl and glow along his feathers. "Please never apologize for making me the happiest stallion in Helovia," he whispered, so overcome by his own emotions he could not raise his voice any louder. 

Whether she shepherded the child around in the wilds, or retreated momentarily - or permanently - into the Falls...Kaj didn't care, so long as he was part of his child's life. His child. "I'm going to be a father," he choked, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.