Swiftcurrent Creek i am not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occasion

when aria repeated his own word to him, mahler grew self-concious of his social transgression. "children," he amended crisply, ears sweeping forward upon any chance to divert from his mistake. omega. the gargoyle's shoulders tensed; for the length of a slow blink he looked upon aria. "she is." 
and while his tone left a good deal to one's imagination, mahler could not help the irritated tightening of his mouth. he was widely in opposition to such a punishment for a young girl who had only answered biology's demand. "vould you care to come vith me, frau aria?" mahler went on, his lavender gaze finding the woman's for a moment.