Little Goat Mountain bewusstsein

Stupid Wylla. She should've caught that. If she engaged her ego then it was pretty obvious what he meant by it, but for once her ego had fled to somewhere deep inside her, cowed by the knowledge that he was far more experienced than her and feeling once more the dynamic shifting. She hated to feel like she was losing. Hated the feeling of being at a disadvantage, and yet in the intervening months, Mahler had surpassed her and now she was the one who felt inadequate to him. In light of that, her ego took a backseat.

He admitted it baldly and her stomach flip-flopped somewhere between flattery and dread. She could not even name the feeling if she tried. On the one hand she was tickled that his admission was real, that she inspired in him such feelings—being admired and wanted was an intoxicating thing, especially for an arrogant wolf like Wylla. On the other hand, she dreaded what it would do to him if he waited on her and nothing ever arose ... or if something did arise and she didn't know what to do with it. She dreaded what he might expect of her in his heart of hearts, and the disappointment it would cause if she could not give what he wished, and she feared what might happen if she wound up reciprocating and he chose another, because she truly didn't know what would come.

Thank god he changed the subject before she said something stupid just to fill the emptiness, because she was on the cusp of it. Oh, ummm, she stammered, glaring at the bone between her teeth as she inelegantly stumbled through her words. Hadn't thought of it. Getting through winter was her priority at the moment, that and locating her wayward daughter. Beyond that, she never knew what came next. Eat everything in sight, probably. Why, do you have any plans?