3/26/2026, 6:23 PM
There's a long, stretching silence that twisted a knot in the depths of his stomach. Whatever this was, he wanted to fix it yet he felt like what ailed her was out of his depth of understanding; not due to any disoriented comprehension of his own, but for not having the pieces he needed to make sense of it. Bogart didn't blame her for that. Maybe this was beyond what she saw him fit to know?
Was the short duration of their relationship finally rearing its head? Where Raisa trusted him but time prevented her from trusting him with more?
He reckoned that made sense. It left him sore of heart, but he could recognize and accept that.
Bogart's breath caught in his throat, mind thrown to a full stop as he shifted back. Just enough to look at her. Pregnant? He—well, he... He had no business being surprised did he? The consequences of what they did weren't incomprehensible nor was he so dumb that he might believe she's simply misunderstanding or confusing the signs; at the time he'd even considered it a possibility with how repeatedly they indulged one another, albeit that consideration was distant. It wasn't like he tried to prevent a pregnancy either.
Quite the opposite, actually.
No, he had no business being surprised but still shock steeled him against the pressure of any other thought.
Pups. Children.
His pups.
Their children.
"Not what I asked for," he repeated, soft. "Nah, I won't lie to ya' and say that's what I asked for, didn't plan it. Ain't ever considered it neither... but that don't mean I don't want it." Bogart moved to his paws and brushed his head against her cheek before coming to rest it at her nape. "I want them. I want you. If y'all're gonna be 'ere, I don't wanna be no place else."
Against her fur, he laughed, more air than mirth as his mind whirled with worries. "I gotta get better at this huntin' thing then, aye?" And then, a tentative pause. Bogart swallowed, asked of her quietly, "But do ya' want 'em?"
Was the short duration of their relationship finally rearing its head? Where Raisa trusted him but time prevented her from trusting him with more?
He reckoned that made sense. It left him sore of heart, but he could recognize and accept that.
Bogart's breath caught in his throat, mind thrown to a full stop as he shifted back. Just enough to look at her. Pregnant? He—well, he... He had no business being surprised did he? The consequences of what they did weren't incomprehensible nor was he so dumb that he might believe she's simply misunderstanding or confusing the signs; at the time he'd even considered it a possibility with how repeatedly they indulged one another, albeit that consideration was distant. It wasn't like he tried to prevent a pregnancy either.
Quite the opposite, actually.
No, he had no business being surprised but still shock steeled him against the pressure of any other thought.
Pups. Children.
His pups.
Their children.
"Not what I asked for," he repeated, soft. "Nah, I won't lie to ya' and say that's what I asked for, didn't plan it. Ain't ever considered it neither... but that don't mean I don't want it." Bogart moved to his paws and brushed his head against her cheek before coming to rest it at her nape. "I want them. I want you. If y'all're gonna be 'ere, I don't wanna be no place else."
Against her fur, he laughed, more air than mirth as his mind whirled with worries. "I gotta get better at this huntin' thing then, aye?" And then, a tentative pause. Bogart swallowed, asked of her quietly, "But do ya' want 'em?"
