Her stomach is small still, slowly swelling as the life grows inside of it. The life that is so infuriating and confusing to her. She paces about the lake, her tail swishing behind her, as she debates crying out for Faust- the sire of these frustrating children. Will he shun her for the scars that now marr her head? She cannot help but feel hideous, no matter what her father says. Her pristine beauty is scarred- ugly, torn because of the vermin that littered her land. It infuriates her. She sinks to her haunches, her legs curving under her, hips kissing the ground and she lets out an impatient howl for Faust. He missed the last meeting- and she's irked with him already. She saved her news of the pregnancy and didn't tell her pack, simply to make sure he knew first. If only he'd show up. Her call ends, and she drops her head with a humph of annoyance. Her emotions change like the tides, and she feels a flicker of sadness? Was she not good enough for him? Has she given in to quickly?

He?s a nomad. That much has not changed, and he doubts it ever will. No matter what he may feel for the Tortugan Queen, nobody is enough to chain the beast. He grows anxious; it has been too long since his last conquest of battle, too long since he has spilled blood. Alas, her summons is something he?s willing to answer. Long limbs carry the Germanic giant closer to his Queen, seeking to press his massive snout to the side of her slender face. His nostrils pick up on something off, but he says nothing about it. After all, he doesn?t know to recognize pregnancy. He?s a man of one night conquest, and never has he stayed around after the fact. At least, not until now. He could very well be the father of many litters of children, but he doesn?t know the signs, the symptoms.

She's irritated, but he comes to her side. He presses his snout against hers, something she allows for a second before she pulls away. She steps away from him, her ears flat against her head and she stares at the ground. She isn't in the confident Queen she needs to be in this moment. In this moment, she is a terrified mother. A heavy sigh leaves her and she looks up at him striped form, her violet eyes seeking his verdant gaze. Two words leave her mouth, "I'm pregnant." She says simply, her claws digging into the ground where she stands. I'm terrified. Her mind echoes, and she cannot meet his eyes any longer. Her head drops, she stares at the frozen earth beneath them. How could they let this happen? All the horror stories she has heard now, make her question her sanity for allowing this to happen! She wants to blame him, desperately, wants to tear into him- to make him feel all the pain she feels. Alas, she stands defeated- waiting to hear his words of banishment.

She moves away from him, much to his disappointment. Vivid green eyes narrow upon her, watching as his Queen steps away from him. He does not move; contact is to be on her terms, after all, and he is afraid of pushing her too far and shattering whatever this is. He frowns as she looks downwards, wondering if this is the end, although he lets her speak if such is true. The words that fall from her lips are delivered like a prison sentence, and he pauses. ?Are they mine?? he questions suddenly, in what is perhaps the worst possible response he could ever have. In his head it is reasonable; he has no pact of monogamy with the Queen, and there is no shame in such an instance in sleeping around. He doesn?t know what to do; he?s never been through this before, never had the chance to be around when a woman tells him he is to be a father. He is a nomad, a vagabond.

Roman awaits his reply, expecting scorn- denial, perhaps a part of her craves his excitement at the prospect. Part of her wants him to chase away her fears. Yet his words hit her like ice, and she recoils physically from them. Are they mine? The words will surely echo in her nightmares. She lets out a breath, and quietly admits. "I have lain with no other." It's true- Faust is her first, consensual partner. Fugue had single-handedly taken her virginity, stripped that innocence away from her. She cannot look up to meet his gaze, she doesn't know what to do. Perhaps she should rid herself of these plagues before they can decimate her life any further? Her tail moves behind her- lowering to touch the ground, and though she craves to push into him for comfort- to hear any word of inspiration, or motivation to get through this- she stands alone. She waits to be rejected, already planning on ways to get through this.

He trusts her confirmation, and he freezes. It is the first time he has experienced this, this rite of passage in his culture. Where he is from, the first children one comes to know to sire are an important part of his life. A sign of his virility, a sign that he is strong enough to woo a woman he desires enough to stick around. Her uncertainty gives him pause, but he moves closer, seeking to envelop her within his much larger frame. ?Mine,? he says in a hushed sort of tone, a darkness almost creeping into it. She is his; his to protect now. She bares his children, an honor that he will make her realize should the opportunity present itself. ?If you found me annoying before, dear Queen, you will find me most obnoxious now. I will not leave your side for even a moment,? he says. The protective instincts are new; he is a creature determined to destroy, but here he has created something, something that has turned the beast from destroyer to guardian.

He doesn't run, and that is all she could expect from the warrior. They had only lain together one night- and this was what would tie them together. She wasn't sure she could do this. He moved towards her, speaking and she felt a tremor race through her body at his words. She would step into his embrace and lean against him- allowing herself to be weak for a moment. She sighs, and speaks again- her words a broken whisper. "I'm not sure if I can do this.." she looks to meet his gaze. She's already endangered the children brewing inside of her- and she is sure to do it again in the coming time. That was the price of a throne, you had to defend it with tooth and claw. His words-if they were meant to be comforting did little to ease the tension she felt. What if she dragged Faust into the danger that seemed to follow her wherever she went? Oh god, the children- would they end up without both a father and a mother? "Perhaps you should stay safe- that way.. if something happens, they at least have you." She suggests, her tone light. Though her eyes show some humor, she's partially serious, wondering how he will take that. "Faust... what do we do?" She whispers, seeking to press her head into his neck.

Her doubts overwhelm him. He frowns; he does not like weak willed women, except for a quick fuck. Roman is hardly such, and he does not know where these doubts stem from. Children cannot hurt you; perhaps coming out might be a battle, but that is only an instant of pain. He growls as she says the words, denying them. ?Of course you can,? he assures her. He does not believe her, does not listen to her for a moment. The vagabond lets a maddened pearl of laughter fall from his lips as she tells him to stay safe. ?Fuck safety. Sweetheart, the first time you met me I?d just killed a man in your borders. I?m not in any danger; no man can bring me down,? he says. Perhaps cockiness is the wrong sort of response, but he cannot help it. Her head presses into his neck as she asks what they will do. ?I will follow you everywhere. Whatever fight you need to do, I will do for you. As for after, I am sure that between the two of us and the rest of your pack our children have a chance. I do not like weak women, Roman; I would not have laid with you and stayed around if I thought you could not handle being a mother,? he informs her.