Ryder sought his mother in something of a panic, though he was doing his best to keep that truth under wraps. His brow was furrowed and his pale eyes set with determination as he moved swiftly through the familiar forest. It had been nearly two whole seasons since he'd last been here, but it was never the terrain that changed. It was always them, the inhabitants.

So many new scents, but Hazey's could no longer be lost amidst them all. Just as Finley had warned him, it had only taken the once.

"Mom?" he could tell that he was closing in, and his nerves were reaching new heights. He did his best to keep the shake out of his voice, but wasn't so sure he'd succeeded. What was she going to think of him now?

Part of Ryder had expected that his mother would already know. That despite how soon he was coming to her, she would still greet him with disappointment burning clearly in her eyes. It was something he had been dreading, but when she looked to him with naivety instead, he wished he'd been right. His stomach cramped uncomfortably, and he wanted to bail already.

His stormy eyes dropped, unable to look at her face.

"Mom, I..." he tried to start out strong, but already his voice was a whisper, and there was the slightest of trembles to his legs; the reality of it was still settling in for him too, "I really messed up. Haze-," his teeth cut down around that name and he had to swallow before he could continue, "Hazel's pregnant."

'Ryder, how could you?'

His tail tucked and his head hung lower. His gaze remained fixed to a patch of ground to the side. Guilt and sadness and shame all threatened to swell up and engulf him, and so he flicked that switch instead. His insides went cold and hard, and his vision lacked clarity.

Her question pulled his focus up, making him blink. His jaws parted then closed, brows drawing together as he tried to find the proper words. Perhaps it should have been easy for him to know what specifically she was asking him. Ryder didn't want to talk about any kind of before, though. Whatever had happened between him and Hazelnut that had led to this didn't need to be discussed with his mother.

"W-, I-," his face twisted in the way that it did when he was having to force himself to talk, to fight back that nearly-indomitable urge to go completely silent and disengage.

"I didn'- we- is, it was, once. Before. I-," he had to take a breath, but it was easier to push forward, to talk about things after that night, "I just... found out. I didn't- I didn't want..." his gaze dropped again, voice lowering, "... I didn't want to disappoint you if I... didn't have to."

Good? While he did see the benefit, Ryder still hadn't expected that word to leave his mother's mouth. His ears remained down and his gaze wandered again as she went on, though the corners of his mouth pulled into a firm frown at the thought of anyone trying to oust him over this. He'd come before this stupid, forest-choked pack. Even if everyone else was a stranger, he was still a priority to the ones who mattered, the ones who were in charge. ... right?

Maybe he was a lot luckier than he thought that his mom was the leader, now.

When she moved in to hug him, Ryder could only remain stiffly still. This likely was better than any wrath or crushing disappointment, but didn't she still feel those things to some extent? As grateful as he was for her support, it also caused him guilt. Now an adult with his own children on the way, and his mother was still needing to take care of him.

'...but the pack is already promised to support Isla since she asked permission...'

Ryder blinked then, gaze finding Finley's face briefly. Fuck @Isla and whatever demon spawn she shit out. Anger clawed at the inside of that wall he'd put up, begging to be let out, but it gave in swiftly and retreated altogether. He remained silent, avoidant of eye contact, until at last he had to say something.

'Ryder, are you okay?'

His lips parted, but the words didn't come promptly.

"... I..." the thoughts, the emotions, were like minnows at the shore, scattering out of reach at the slightest attempt to perceive them. Only one was heavy enough to linger and be caught, and his voice was barely above a whisper as he communicated it.

"How... how am I... how am I gonna know... how to be a dad?"

The way she looked at him once there was distance between them again made him feel all the worse. His stormy gaze dropped to the ground and held itself firmly in place there.

The only change as she began to answer his question, was in his ears. They stood a touch taller and pressed forward, as he was listening attentively. It... wasn't really comforting, what she had to say. He supposed it made sense, not being able to summarize parenthood in a response. That there were no simple answers for complex problems. His mom didn't need to have all the right things to say for his particular brain, though; Ryder just needed her to keep showing up for him. If she was here, for him to talk to, to ask questions of, to even set him straight, he'd be alright.

And... hopefully, so would his kids. There was so much support (and he was young and naïve enough), their physical safety was not really too large of a concern for him. It was, the rest of it. Their emotional wellbeing. Ryder never been nurturing a minute of his life.

'It’s a balance between doing what you think is right and best for them, and how you would have wanted to be treated as a child. Always trying to do better than what you had.'

It was her final pieces of advice that snapped him out of that fixed stare. His brow pinched, and he looked up at her face once more. Genuinely at a loss for what 'better' could be. Anything he might have changed (such as her pairing with Jethro) had already been mucked up far worse. How were he and @Hazelnut going to build a solid, romantic, genuine relationship before the kids arrived? Ryder had difficulty picturing himself managing it at all, much less under such constraints.

No, it was very unlikely that he was going to come close to doing 'better' than he was raised.

"Okay," he answered, because that was easiest. Immensely so, comparative to what he should have said. Truth be told, he was fried. His limits had been pushed as far as they could be for one conversation, and he needed the chance to decompress before anything more could be gotten from him. Ryder had come to recognize this in himself, though he still didn't usually handle it the way he should. For Finley, he forced himself to try and do better in this moment.

"Mom... Can I please... go be alone? So I can..." his hesitation was more difficult to push past there, so incredibly unwilling (or unable?) to verbalize feelings, "calm down."

He hated the words as they came out of his mouth. They were all wrong, it wasn't the right connotation, the right impression, they weren't worth what they conveyed. But they were out and if he'd found anything more fitting in the past two years he'd have said that instead, wouldn't he of?

"I just... I want to talk to you. Before... bed, maybe?"

The question came with a deeply-felt hopefulness in his eyes.