Arrow Lake all these in-betweens that bar my youth

stigmata had almost wholly devoted himself to ketzia and his newborn whelps, but mahler visited daily through the illness that had entered the life of the boy called trench. he saw no reason to quit his ministering; indeed, it appeared he had won ketzia over, and while he might have been mistaken, seeing the little ones grow brought him a good deal of satisfaction.
summer had become scathing, and mahler sighed into the hot air as it prickled with a sudden storm, relieved at the feel of it. as the sky began to cloud, ready to unleash a deluge, the gargoyle ducked his head into ketzia’s den just in time to see the weak child toddle forward.
a low rumble of approval escaped mahler; he lowered his muzzle, reaching forward to steady trench if need be.