"Ah, yes." Miles drops his hand away from Kurt's stomach, fingers curling into a fist at the mention of Naseer. Perhaps for the best -- though he keeps the other hand firmly on the little human's back, only sliding slightly up from their ass, to propel them forward. "Naseer doubtless has all the accurate information, as per usual. He's never been wrong once, in his entire life." There's obvious venom in his words -- Corrigan might be his biggest enemy, but Naseer is clearly loathed almost as much.

Another shove forward, towards a small lean-to by the side of the road, one of many built for passing travelers to spend an hour or a night while their horses rest. It's little more than a smudgy firepit with a holey roof over top, but it'll do for the night. Miles gives Kurt one last rough push, this time to sit down in the ashes by the fireplace. "Hold still," he commands, pulling a length of rope from his belt and beginning to loop it around Kurt's ankles.

"A month's time, hm? That's not very far away." He lifts his eyes, cold and pale blue and immediately locking with Kurt's. "Can you feel them yet? Your link with the pup?" His hand is back on Kurt's rounded belly, smoothing back and forth. "It'll be there, already. They can feel you too, your fear, your joy. But they won't understand who their father is until they're born. Until they link with him."

A slow, curling, cruel smile. "With me."