Duck Lake are you worth your weight in gold, cause you're behind my eyelids when i'm all alone

alarian turned toward mahler and the wretched thing studied him with no small measure of cool regard. it was the expectancy that the gargoyle felt the governor intended that bristled the silver-stippled hackles, brought an edge that had not been there to sharpen the lilac of his stare.
mahler lifted himself presently, closing the distance between himself and the slight boy with two trudges of his long side. silently the man settled himself against alarian's flank, allowing the proximity between the pair to dissipate with the brush of his pelt. it was not often he allowed such things; mahler was not a creature who desired contact from his fellows. 
but the mouse was someone about which he had come to care, albeit in a fleeting and largely unemotional way, as was his way. and he felt that perhaps the closeness of another might go some way toward improving the sylph's mood. once more, mahler turned his gaze upon the ducks and found quietude upon his tongue.