Swiftcurrent Creek A branch became a blade of dignity

stonelike, mahler sank to the earth beneath the reaction of one wolf he had ever desired to follow. the dark slate of his ears swept backward against his broad skull; he blinked confusedly at wylla in a muted expression of distress.
that grimnismal had disbanded was no fault of hers — perhaps she felt that he would accuse her of such, but no words to smooth that concept arrived upon his tongue. or perhaps it was simply him who inspired such ire in the silver she-wolf — mahler knew her first impression of him had been one of arrogance.
it was swiftly that the musiker's thoughts passed; mahler felt suddenly the press of the ground against his prone from, and something altogether unfamiliar beating salt behind his lavender gaze.
unable suddenly to control the rapid blinking that had begun to assail him, nor understanding the emotion that had gripped him so fiercely, he shifted away from wylla and found his footing. not until he stumbled over his own kill did mahler pause, and then only to peer fleetingly at the woman, fearing another iteration of her wrath before he was able to obscure himself once more in the thicker woodland.