Arrow Lake all these in-betweens that bar my youth

Whether Mahler took credit or not, he had certainly helped Ketzia tend to the sickly boy. It very well could have been the reason that Trench had survived, but there was no way to be certain of such things. The presence of the gargoyle was something that had become familiar to the child. Though he did not know much about his parents’ relations to the others within the pack, Mahler’s aroma had frequented their home often enough to remind the young boy that this was a friend; he did not need to worry.
 
The words were encouraging to the boy. He had not imagined himself to be quite as strong as his siblings, but the quiet timbre of Mahler’s voice was enough to draw his spirits upward and give life to his frame. Inching between the gargoyle’s limbs, Trench found a place that was suitable and reclined back onto his haunches. It was here that he began to prod with his nose against the rough legs of the violet-eyed man. There was no fear to be felt while in the presence of the Diasporan leader.