Arrow Lake separate the weak from the obsolete

Oh, did Mahler arrive like a maelstrom. There had been no way to convey to Verx that this would happen, whether all gathered here assumed such or not. And so, when dragostea made for the doktor, bounkola moved for balaur and belea in a harried trot. Please behave, copiii mea, oh—

But before the herbalist could get more than a few paces, though, she found her way eventually barred by none other than— ”Kazimir. Au kom ai edei.” The words might be foreign, and they might be evened, and Aure might understand why the way to her children and the males was being cut off.

But the husk of warning was still there, creeping into that adamant tone like frost. Everything tender in her from moments ago now perched as perturbation on her tongue, her teeth, in both eyes.

Did the huntress now share in Mahler’s claim, too? Did everyone here, besides herself? An ear flickered, heeding to the inscrutable words of whatever Verx was saying; with each passing flick of her pulse, he and their children went farther from her.

And then, that glazed sympathy — sympathy — in Kazimir’s eyes was enough to make Aurëwen recoil, give her ruff a reason to shiver and rise. Up until today, sympathy was what’d been doled out to her in abysmal amounts, in dreadful droves; she did not want it. She wanted her godsdamned family.

”You will not keep me from this.” Aure made not another move, contradicting herself, but she stood defiant. Glared up into Kazimir’s face with a still-seeing, bright-burning eye — which flit once more to Drago, Isi, and Verx. Rahat.