"A month?" He cringed, a small whine hiding in the back of his throat. They'd said that time would move slowly, if at all, out there. A month? His hand has slid down to cover hers, fingers between each other as both palms press flat against her stomach. There. There, warm, there, his baby, his cub. Their cub. Hers. Theirs.

His arms wrap around her and he's softly nuzzling her ear, making soothing little not'sounds.