Noctisardor Bypass blumine

backdated to the 17th. set after this thread. tags for reference

upon parting ways with wylla, the gargoyle had stood at the eastern border and called to @Constantine and @Durnehviir. at the end of it, mahler deliberately hung a lingering note for @Tiercel. he would return, but not until his tread had exhausted the full breadth of sorrow and anger that hung heavy within him.
for five days mahler had traveled, headed for the slopes falling shadow in the distance. the man's path was straightforward; he paused to rest alongside a lake, and hunted in a woodland farther along. the dawning of the fourth day brought him deer spoor, which he followed into the fifth until he came to a nestled paradise that had somehow escaped his watch.
the jagged teeth of fierce mountains that did not quite tower stood sentinel over the jeweled swathes of forest. summerlight had turned the meadows to emerald carpet and profusions of wildflowers, and fresh water flowed. there was no scent of a pack here, and mahler continued into the heart of it undisturbed, his lilac stare soft despite the weariness of his paws and his heart.
here there was music.

slides in

He doesn't return to the Sanctuary yet; instead, his paws carry him to his meeting place with Samothes. It’s not until he arrives that he realizes he’s thinking about him. In a way, he misses him — or rather, what he’d represented. It doesn’t matter. Their affair is over, and he has Delight now. But part of him still aches a little for something he can’t quite name.
Deeper into the territory, he realizes there’s a familiar scent on the wind, the source surely not far from his own position. He hesitates. His last meeting with the lilac-eyed man is still fresh in his mind, and he wonders if he has the capacity now to handle a similar situation. The seconds stretch by as he debates with himself, pacing more than a little anxiously; truth be told, he’s a little scared to be seen, as well — assuming Mahler isn’t a lying liar who lies, he’d found Alarian pleasant to look at once. He’s not sure how anyone could now (though, to be fair, he’d been equally baffled by the concept then).

a name; songnotes. the promise of something more come springtime.
the gargoyle wandered deeper into the weald, his step unfocused but deliberate. he did not wish to startle any other wolves, nor did he wish to be caught off guard. charcoal hackles bristled when he caught the sanctuary wolf's scent, but in the next moment mahler had relaxed, a guttural sound of relief spiraling from his throat.
though he could not yet see the sylph, the musiker pressed toward the thread until he caught sight of alarian's familar form, slim-hipped and nervous. for the moment, mahler did not approach, but his countenance was as welcoming as he could make it. the boy need not fear him.

He's just about to retreat, head home and maybe curl up next to Delight, when Mahler's scent grows stronger and a few beats later he appears. He halts his pacing abruptly, studying him for a moment; the man doesn't seem to harbor any ill feelings, at least not visibly, so he takes it as his cue to approach.
As he draws nearer, he finds he's not as opposed to the company as he'd thought. It feels odd and presumptuous to consider Mahler a friend, but he can't think of another word; they've become friendly with each other, in a way, despite all their differences— so, that's friendship. Still, it's a strange friendship, to say the least. Mahler. How are you? He greets, halting a few feet away.

mahler did not know if his presence was welcomed; alarian's tone was inviting, but the man remembered the tension of their last meeting. yet the cherub's stance was affable also, and so the gargoyle relaxed. he looked to the land he had discovered, sensing in it a deep richness that the creek did not have. "i am well. i am exploring." 
seeing no reason to explain unless asked, mahler's charcoal ears cupped slowly toward the lovely little seraph. "and you, alarian?"

He offers a faint smile when the man responds, pleased to hear that he's well. For a moment he tries to imagine what Mahler's life must be like outside their brief meetings; tamer than his own, surely? He pauses slightly over the returned question — he should feel... something, now, shouldn't he? Happier, more at peace. But he feels like he always does; broken and weary, and a little anxious.
I'm alright, He decides to say, tail swishing slowly. His gaze sweeps briefly over the area around them before settling again on Mahler, expression warm. It occurs to him that they share a penchant for travel — not uncommon, but pleasing nonetheless. It's beautiful here, isn't it?

"it is." his life was simple, yes, perhaps too simple. perhaps boring, stagnant, its very calm a bane to the heart of the wandering soul. he did not belong at swiftcurrent, but he did not yet allow himself to consider this. "vhy are you sad?" when they had last met, such a sorrow had lain in the young creature, and now it seemed as if it had not abated. the gargoyle felt a worry within him — had so many ills befallen the cherub that no joy remained in a soul so youthful? his lavender eyes traced the scarring, the somber expression: if there was a story here, mahler wished to know it.

He sucks in a breath at hearing the question, tensing for a moment. He knows he isn't the best at hiding his emotions — but he wishes that for once, someone could leave it be. Unfortunately for him, it seems even Mahler is willing to pry — maybe it's the scars, maybe they make him seem more interesting than he really is. Ugh.
I'm a murderer, Oh, he didn't mean to say it like that. His ears pin back to his skull and his gaze trains itself to the earth. I mean — I... he wanted me dead. My brother did. So I — He sucks in a breath, shaking his head slightly. His next words come out as a murmur, almost to himself. Just like with our father. He is a murderer, isn't he? Selfish enough to take two lives rather than let go of his own miserable excuse for one, at least. Suddenly he doesn't really want to stick around for Mahler's response.

he had not expected alarian to answer; the charcoal ears swept forward in surprise, then mahler settled himself to listen. a murderer. it was not what he had thought possible of the slim boy, and when the explanation came, the man gave a low chuff. "it is not murder if you are defendink yourself," the gargoyle muttered in a low tone. inching closer, mahler offered a clumsy nudge to the narrow shoulder. "vee are creatures of fierce things. your teeth are your veapons against this vorld, alarian." into silence he lapsed then, glancing off toward the distant horizon.

Somehow it comes as a surprise that Mahler doesn't immediately hate him; logically he knows the man's words are true. It's not murder if it's self-defense — Runion had been bent on killing him, and Arnlith had just been pure evil, so he shouldn't feel bad. He just... does anyway. There's something so horribly, impossibly permanent about death that he just can't wrap his head around. Sometimes he tries to imagine what it might be like, and it makes his head hurt, and that's what strikes him most deeply about it — it's all so far beyond his understanding, what right does he have to go around taking lives?
It all races through his mind in a flash, but his thoughts calm a moment later as he fully registers the slightly awkward nudge. The touch offers more comfort than he might have thought. You're right, He murmurs a little wearily, taking a slow, deep breath as he tries to find the words to express some part of the whirlwind conflict within him. But he can't, so instead he says: Sorry for um, blurting that out — it's my problem, and I shouldn't have dumped it on you like that.

mahler grunted. "it is not the vay of friends to act as if the other must carry their own problems." he did not realize until this moment he had come to think of alarian as a friend, a thought triggered by the fact he had reached out to another. it was not something oft done by the gargoyle; there was profundity to it. he was content to be silent alongside alarian; he was content to speak. another gesture that bespoke friend, even if he was unsure that the boy wished to be only that. 
it was of no account; the musiker was here now and would offer his friendship to the sylph if it was so wanted.

It's surprising in a way that maybe it shouldn't be, to hear him say the word aloud. It shows in his expression for a moment, but then he offers a slight smile. He can't help but feel a little pleased that at least Mahler returns some of his feelings — even if it's only the more platonic ones. It's enough. And besides, he's felt enough conflict over the man to mostly be over those desires. Mostly. Thank you, He says quietly, gaze soft. It's one of those rare occasions he doesn't feel the need to say anything else and ruin it all, so he goes quiet, finding silence fairly easy in Mahler's company by now.

fade after another round? <3

unknowing that this would be the place to which he would travel when he left swiftcurrent, mahler let out a low sigh of contentment, and gathered himself to his paws for long stretch. after he had finished, the gargoyle regarded alarian gently. "i am not certain how far your home is from here, but i am staying for the present, and you are velcome to accompany me." hunger had began to gnaw at him, and he was eager to continue exploring the area, for both prey and its details.

that works <3 we should have a new one soon!

There are many things neither of them can know are waiting in the future, and just now Alarian finds himself wishing Mahler would have come with him to Bracken Sanctuary instead of going... wherever he lives, oblivious to the fact that it won't be terribly long before Broken Boulder becomes only a memory to him. His gaze wanders toward the horizon for a moment as the man stretches, though it returns to him as he starts to speak. Alright, He says after a beat of consideration, deciding his pack can wait a little longer and that he should probably rest before he continues anyway. I'll stay awhile.

yes we should! <3

pleased with alarian's decision, mahler let some hint of that climb into his features. "vonderful," he murmured gently. "hunt with me, ja?" there was always a kill to be made, and camaraderie shared over food was the best sort to the gargoyle. slowly he began to set off, glancing over one brawny shoulder to ensure that the scarred cherub followed.

He can't help but smile at the pleasure in Mahler's expression, tail swishing behind him. He nods without hesitation to the man's question, moving eagerly to follow his lead. These meetings have become one of the few things he looks forward to, he realizes. Suddenly he's eager to make the best of the encounter; there's no way to know which meeting will be the last, and Mahler has become significant to him.