Arrow Lake sonnenlicht

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experience told mahler that this was a time of verlangen, for not only was it in the beasts of the field and birds of the air, it would be upon his own kind as well. stigmata and he had made a firm claim here; the only thing to solidify it further would be children. 
it was not a want of mahler's, however; he wished to be present as he had for the ducklings of swiftcurrent, not their father but a protector, a teacher. yet his own loins did not ache with the clarion call of restless lust. and though he had not yet scented in their lands the telltale, heady scent of receptiveness, when it came he would ensconce himself within the furthermost reaches of diaspora.
it was the way of things. mahler let out his breath in a white plume and padded to the lake to drink.