Emberflame Ridge schneemusik

unluckily for mali, mahler lifted his head at that moment and spotted in the distance the woefully familiar form of the lanky boy from elysium. irritation sparked in his heart, and he rose. the child did not belong to him, nor was he one of mahler's wolves, but his behavior had permanently rankled the man.
and so he moved toward mali with a hunter's proud stalk, guard hairs flaring and plume flung high. this was not disapora, not his land, but the arrogance of the child sat poised like a bitter taste upon his tongue. talk, he told himself, nothing more, but the insult to his latent authority coursed through mahler.
he could be, after all, quite stubborn himself.