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

Such a confusing man was Mahler. Who would admit to feeling so many things, not all of them good, and then express that if they could change something about it, they wouldn't? If Wylla had the opportunity to have everything go just how she wanted, she would take it in a heartbeat.

Without strife and discomfort, there was no metric against which to compare one's enjoyment. It was a lesson she had yet to learn, along with many others, like keeping her mouth shut rather than spewing the errant uncomfy thoughts that crossed her mind, which is exactly what she did next.

What have you felt? she asked, and then in an incredible moment of weird and inexplicable insecurity, she baldly asked, do you feel that way about me even now, or did you mean only in the past? Only after a few seconds passed did she think about what she had said and turned her sharp muzzle away, hotly murmuring, don't answer either of those questions.