Miles keeps his wan smile on, trying not to inhale the man's scent too deeply -- with Kurt, at least, it's buried under layers of wolf scenting, months and months of it, to the point where their own body had altered. Enough to carry and birth a child, enough to smell less like a human and more...natural. Gunnar has no such changes, and his acrid stench is already making it difficult to breathe.

The baby whimpers, trying to wiggle her tiny hands free, letting out a thing wail as Miles sets her down roughly on the seat of the wagon. Even touching her too long feels loathsome, goes against his own instincts, which demand he claim and breed Kurt himself, put his own pup in their belly. The sooner he can get rid of this one, the better.

"Not for some time," Miles says flatly, wiping his hands on his pants. "I have other plans that require Kurt to be...alive." Even if he didn't, he wouldn't share with Gunnar -- the sooner he leaves, the better. Arching both eyebrows, Miles adds: "No desire to say a farewell, then, I take it?"