Moonspear ᵐᵗᵐᵖʰ envinyatar (mtr.)

poppyseed, and here mahler looked closer. yes and yes, the bitterness surely swelled its ghostly seed within her now. in a moment of shame, the gargoyle found himself responsive to her tremulous tones, the way she arched beneath the pillarlike protection of his towering presence. he laved the corner of one ear, was silent as aurëwen's words trailed featherlight against the curve of his own.
"red raspberry," mahler suggested in a thicker tone tugged from lips that wished only to bring her pleasure, comfort. "it is vhat i give vomen in their vhelping." something delicate, without the strident weight of poppyglint. but perhaps she had needed more, and at length mahler craned back his head that he might glimpse the place where the fire had kissed aurëwen and left its harrowing mark.
"vhere you chasing storms?" the shadowpriest inquired, a chiding edge to his otherwise stoic voice. had the dove been chasing fairylights through the forest, upon the stone teeth of the mountains? how had she come to such harm? and yet he knew it would do little to lecture aurëwen; she might quail beneath his chastisements, but mahler could not change her very soul,
and nor did he wish to do this thing.
in silence he resettled beneath her, the churn of his broad darkened self a mimicry of the earth that seemed to breathe beneath the very flesh of the odd and quiet pair. dragomir — mahler had not forgotten, and the memory of the boy's poor ravaged expression swept through him knifelike to leave guilt in its wake.