Sleepy Fox Hollow Where I thought I knew it all before I knew what love was

her outburst surprised mahler; startling his staid features. and the subsequent words reverberated upon his memories of her, how fire-tongued and fierce and yes, in the end, cruel.
he had never blamed her for how she had regarded him during their last meet, preferring instead to believe that he had satisfied some requirement in her eyes, given himself a darker role as he had abandoned grimnismal.
still a thrumming bolt of vital energy. wylla's size had always belied the massive strength of her presence; the gargoyle had learned quickly not to underestimate her
but where was tiercel? he corrected the thought quickly: her daughter would by now be duckling no longer. but as his stoneflower gaze attended wylla, he could see no signs of ageing. it was as if she had never departed.
"i did not think i vould see you again, vylla," mahler uttered after another moment had tripped beyond its bearings. her name; it was at once both familiar and foreign, shaped upon his tongue aloud this time.
the situation did not seem to invite small talk; he noted the fallback of her ears, the way her body spoke to his rank. ironic, then, that they should meet again in a situation where he was leader — he had never forgotten their first meet.
"you are near to diaspora now. i am its general." feeling swiftly as though he were bragging before her, flaunting his rank, mahler masked this with a slight curve upon his lips. 
from where did you come? will you stay? 
there was nothing more to say, not now. mahler despised the sensation of discomfort that ambled through his tall figure as he waited for wylla to respond, to mock him, to tell him why she had truly come to the very threshold of his existence once more.