Phoenix Maplewood She cut too deep and she left me scarred

with only kierkegaard for estimation, mahler often forgot he himself bore the littering of scars as testament to his willpower. but he thought nothing of this; he leant back, satisfied to have taken the measure of the man and received a name. "mahler," the dappled musician returned, sloe-pitched ears sweeping to cup the grizzled fighter's suggestion.
quietly, the newly made loner stepped to dakarai's side, glancing toward his companion — mahler would follow where he was led, and the hum of eagerness in the man's voice did not go unnoticed.