Swiftcurrent Creek in ruhig fließender bewegung

im sorry ;;;;

she spoke, anger flickering 'round the edges of her words. as durnehviir began to point out exactly what constituted an extreme punishment in her world, mahler's countenance began to take on a vague horror. the concept of murdering newborns clenched the gargoyle's stomach with bile; he stared for a long moment at the she-dragon.
gone was any need to mention wylla; mahler's mind had fixed upon durnehviir's insistence that she had shown chusi and her babes any sort of mercy. "she should be grateful you did not murder her children?" the charcoal man growled, and this time the hackles along his spine rippled with a righteous indignantion.
in this perhaps it would be clear that the musiker was lacking in dire areas of knowledge regarding his own kind's behaviour, but it was unpalatable to hear such from the woman who led swiftcurrent. and while mahler avoided wolfesses in season, the pull of them upon him was undeniable; he thought of nyx in grimnismal for a somber moment, and how wylla had reacted.
would the seawolf have also murdered nyx's children, had not her brother fathered them? mahler did not know how it had gone for her; he was stuck helplessly upon the idea of dead cubs, and it thrummed in the back of his skull that he had seen such before. his breathing grew shallow, and then his nostrils flared with anger, and reason escaped mahler completely.
"you are a mother. wylla is a mother. chusi is a mother. why should she alone be punished?" the confusion around the law that had before escaped mahler was clear in the hesitance of his tone, but he burned all the same. for a moment, a white spear of purest relief that wylla had departed this place resounded in mahler, for durnehviir had now made herself a threat to tiercel in the gargoyle's mind. 
and sternly he felt it was his right to question his leaders. if they wanted to be shepherds to a herd of blind sheep, let them, but he was not such a one. mahler wished to depart, to remove himself from beneath the fire of her eyes, but he did not fear her as he had feared wylla. but there was a healthy wariness there; he was still, quiet, wanting answers and yet knowing they might be arrested by the dragonness' own annoyance.