Greatwater Lake i will never believe in anything again

"it has," mahler responded, eyes drifting with a hidden spark of worry over the other's appearance. "vhat plagues you in this hour, alarian," the gargoyle pressed lightly; the seraph consistently bore the weight of one crisis or another. it was not something for which he had ever judged the younger wolf; in truth, alarian glowed a new sort of vitality into mahler whenever they met.
in the distance, movement — the general turned away from his companion swiftly, straightening to gaze pointedly in the direction of the shifting shadow. too large to be a mouse or a weasel; his lavender stare bored into the night.