Arrow Lake sonnenlicht

in many ways, mahler did not think of himself as leadership, not yet. he was happy to defer to stigmata in all the matters that had arisen thus far, and so when the woman approached, buttercream muzzle downpointed and body held in a submissive stance, he did not immediately react.
her approach, however, elicited the high waving of his tail; he explored with wet lips the scents tangled into her ruff, and stepped back to signal his acceptance of her respect. "you are ketzia, ja?" mahler inquired. he knew the names of those in diaspora, if not everything about them — it was his task to know such things, for that was the way of their world.