Of course, his myriad questions would bother her — why shouldn't they? She felt her request was justified, she knew her own reasons, and yet he kept doubting her, asking all the little things she probably did not want to think about. But, he could not do wrong by a child just for the sake of the mother's whims. He had to know, to.. feel right with it. He doubted he could ever understand her, or her reasons, for they seemed alien and flawed to him, but if he could feel alright with it... Then, maybe, he could help her. For help her he wanted, to make her feel happy and carefree, to smile and not cry, or lie broken in the snow beginning for death. When she spoke again, she smiled softly through the tears, and Mauja's ears gently turned back, not to lie against his neck in anger, but in some expression akin to thoughtfulness, or sorrow. At least she was not delusional enough to think that a child would force him into becoming, or acting, her mate or something. If he wanted to, he could give her what she wanted, and then walk away, leaving her with a child and desolation. She did not expect him to take up a steady position in her life.

Neither could he treat a child of his own body with disdain, nor fail to acknowledge it; "bastard" or not, it would be his. Even Tamlin, wherever the lynx-boy was now, he loved, despite the circumstances of his conception, and the manner in which Lotus had raised him. Her eyes shed more tears to freeze upon her cheeks and drip upon the snow, and Mauja reached out to push his warm muzzle against them, as if to stem the flow. Neither of them could know if a child of theirs would stay with its mother, and love her, but now that he had introduced the possibility into her world, would she rather stay as she was? He thought not, for her tongue did not say this is a bad idea, and her body pressed against him for strength, and comfort.

Mauja closed his eyes.

Who was he, to deny her this? To refuse would just be cruel, but even as he searched his soul, he found nothing but a gray, dreary tiredness. Nothing to spark a fire, and beside him, she kept sighing. Darkness had fallen, and as he slowly opened his eyes, the faintest hint of silver was visible in them. He might have yielded to her request — for now — but he was not in the mood to get it on. "Alright," he said heavily after a moment, his breath slipping out like a white cloud in the cold darkness. "But not tonight." His white tail lashed once against his hocks. If this was to happen, she better keep meaning it — he wouldn't let it happen with her nothing but a broken, teary-eyed mess and he just barely having avoided a hysteric breakdown. "Another time. For now.. let's just go home." His voice was quiet, tired even, and gently he nudged her black, cold shoulder, willing her to move, and follow him back west, to the Basin.