Little Goat Mountain bewusstsein

misery crept over mahler like a veil; he kept it from his features and bid himself spend this last breadth of time with wylla before they parted ways to become general and soldier once more.
"i vent on a long journey last season to avoid children," he murmured vaguely, harshly attempting to tether himself even as the emptiness began to lap at the edges of his spirit, clouding him with a subtle resentment of how the situation had played itself.
"this year, i find myself in demand. my co-leader, diaspora's kapitän, has suggested ve raise a litter together."
a sudden snowfall, soft sideways flowing that nestled feathered flakes among his charcoal withers. "the leader of the nearby pack, courtfall," so very convoluted, "it vould be an alliance." a disservice to aurëwen not to mention what it was between them, but he had no word for it, and it would not benefit wylla to know.
"as for diaspora, i vant any children born here to be mine. the last time i allowed fathers to raise their own young, they abandoned us wholesale. it vill not happen again."
aware he had grown brusque, mahler searched for some way to relieve the tension, proffering a smile that flirted briefly with his eyes. "politics, ja?"