Arrow Lake Hold it, even though it kills you slowly

since their interlude within the water, mahler and takiyok had maintained an affably terse relationship, with none of the former warmth that had categorized their interactions. busy as he had become with tending the ailing trench, the gargoyle was perhaps less available than before, utilizing the child as a convienient reason to withdraw from the winterwhite.
and dragomir ... ! anger rose chokingly within him whenever he thought of the boy and his dire injuries, injuries that need not have been sustained had only the stupid flighty woman stayed within the mountains.
he was being unfair, mahler knew, and for that he pulled back his notion of the dove as foolish. the father of her children had abandoned her; she had been alone in diaspora, and had found herself the sole leader of her small family. he must not judge her too harshly, though some small part of the shadowpriest would forever loathe the day that aurewen and vercingetorix had ever darkened diaspora's borders.
a clutch of spruce trees ahead; mahler happily passed into their cool shade, and here the fresh fragrance of takiyok tugged despairingly within him. she was close, the gargoyle knew; he hesitated a moment, lavender eyes following the trajectory of where she had walked. would she want him near? or would their meet only be strained as all the others before it?
mahler decided it mattered not; her presence had always been a balm to him, and so selfishly pressed forward after the winterwhite until he saw her pale frame in the distance. again he held back; again he lengthened his gait and came to her side, silent, wary.