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

displeased to hear that wylla had not been given the respect that was her due, mahler nevertheless was also satisfied to leave the talk of leadership behind. it enforced the boundaries between them more than he would have liked, reminded the man that he was general and she decurio. though, he mused, it was not a rank that wylla planned to occupy forever.
uncomfortable, he laid silent plans to meet with takiyok, so that they might debrief one another on goings-on and future goals.
"thank you, vylla," mahler murmured softly, setting their pace at a ground-eating gait that would carry them to the lower foothills and its spread of willow, here by a now-frozen stream he had tucked the little pharmacopoeia.
he was suddenly, blatantly compelled to ask the she-wolf if she wished children in the springtime. it was for once an innocuous thought; he desired to know by how much the headcount of his pack might increase.
mahler smothered such thought immediately, lengthened rangy stride with a teasing glance tossed to wylla as he pressed the potential of a race.