Swiftcurrent Creek des knaben wunderhorn

small powerplay! let me know and i can amend if need be <3

mahler watched her countenance fall, observed the quietude that had seized hold of the girl, one with which she had not approached him. and while he believed the young frau, his muted sense of hierarchy suggested she was not eating well enough for being a nursing mother.
it was the same distance from the laws of his kind that allowed mahler to regard the dark-eyed woman as no different than the other she-wolves in the pack who had given birth. the musiker unfortunately was prone to rigid and monochrome reasoning in many instances; this was such a one. "vait here," the gargoyle ordered in tones more firm than he intended.
and when he returned some handful of moments later, mahler bore a fatty strip of meat from his cached kill; in its place, the toy he had mellowed for the duckling wylla now raised. "nursink mothers are in need of richer food," he explained by way of a statement, once he had set the offering at her small paws and backed some feet away. lapping blood from his jaws, mahler waited to see what the girl would do; if she accepted, he would consider it a source of satisfaction he could take in her nourishment, and if not, mahler was nothing if not persistent.