Miles moves around Kurt like a man trapped in a room with a wild animal -- cautious, careful, mindful. He retreats to his chair, crossing his arms like the sheer force of their gaze unsettles him. Maybe it does. He'd gotten accustomed to their compliance, their submission, but this is...not that. It's not that at all.

So he stays at a difference as the baby ferociously feeds, her eyes closed, long lashes fluttering against her cheeks as Kurt strokes her hair. There's a lot of it, curls and loops, a soft dark color exactly between both her parent's. She curls her tiny hands, tiny fingers against Kurt's chest, perfectly at peace, secure in the knowledge of her own safety.

And Miles stays far, far away. For the moment.

"There's a town, a few miles south, near the river. It's warmer there, a better place to wait out the rest of the winter." Before, Miles hadn't cared much for Kurt's comfort or warmth or even whether they were fed well enough -- perhaps a part of him had hoped they'd miscarry, that he wouldn't have to deal with Corrigan's pup. But now that she's out, now that they're open and ready for his pup instead, caution must be taken. "We'll stay there until the spring thaw."