Cerulean Cape winterlied

the music of springtime dawning led mahler along the coastline. here, frigid winds sliced through the air and into his pelt; the rangy creature hunched his shoulders against the stormy teeth of the winterbrine breathing.
before the sun reached its height in the sky, mahler beheld the curled cape, and knew was a gentle shelter that would come alive when the warmth returned. mentally, the musiker denoted this curving bit of seascape as his favorite area thus far, or so he would if mahler had any idea of how favorites worked. in his straightforward mind, there were only things to be liked or disliked; that he enjoyed something made it a favorite. 
unplagued by analysis of his rather robotic thought processes, mahler sat down and began his daily examination of the sky, his translation of birdsong to songnote.