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

mahler felt as though wylla was describing herself, and the beginnings of a smile curled his lips at the irony. she did not even seem to know the vast similarity there. 
but before the gargoyle could say a single thing upon the matter, wylla struck with the shocking lash of more than a mere suggestion. the general’s first instinct was a swift defense, head rearing back in chagrin. but he caught himself more quickly this time, letting out his breath in a trail of white steam.
”vould you vant me to climb into your sleeping place, vylla?” mahler shot back crisply, before her scowl replaced their bit of lighter banter.
”i vish you to be safe before you leave on the next leg of your journey. the land is changed. some places have become treacherous.” 
awash in the light of her sunflower eyes, mahler blinked. a dornblume, he decided: a strong blossom with deceptively soft petals of pastel hue. it nestled itself within the jagged edge of briars, and stabbed repeatedly those drawn to it, until few came to seek its fragrance again.
he suspected wylla rather liked it that way.