Sleepy Fox Hollow To the house in the pines where the road ends

turning his nerves inward, mahler led wylla along the game trail he had taken up to the ridge. within him, the man's stomach roiled uncomfortably, as much with the sudden infusion of fresh meat as the situation with which he must deal.
only just returned from a trek outside the hollow, he had not expected to meet wylla so soon, and found himself discombobulated, jarred to and fro between first his lover and then the source of all this heartsickness.
she padded beside him and the silence stretched interminable, until mahler cleared his throat. "i vanted to apologize for how i behaved that day," he began, voice low, hushed. "i think of myself as logical, but i am still a man, vith a man's pride."
the admission did not hurt, merely rankled somewhat; mahler allowed himself a sidelong glance at the she-wolf as they pressed on.