Barrow Fields the worst thing about prison was the dementors

the absolute BEST

the note did not only notice him, she drew near. mahler was perturbed, then annoyed; his features arranged themselves into a perfectly implacable wall. he had only wanted to observe her, after all, not be dragged into a conversation unfit for his tongue. or perhaps his tongue was unfit for conversation. the unfriendly lilac of his eyes took in whatever detail she presented, down to her ebon legs and the manner in which her tones trailed away.
mahler did not immediately offer a response; here, his focus was for the music of her movement, but the sylph's speaking finally elicited a gruff nod from the musiker. "unfair," he agreed, hoping the she-wolf would be quiet so he could return to his analysis of her gait and inner focus.