Spotted Eagle Mountain die unmöglichkeit

He agonized--the fervor of it spurned only more by his ailment, she could assume, and as his pointed pale stare fell upon her, questioning her, she allowed her pace to slow and her eyes to bore upon him. He ached with not just his sickness, of that she was sure. Spinning, her paws lithe upon the rugged terrain, the honeyed wolf of snow once more closed the distance between them, her own heart aching at the thought of his hurt. Kisses were pressed along his nape, a cold nose lifting to nudge at the underside of his chin. 

"Takiyok is perfectly capable of leading in your stead," she murmured, dulcet lips finally settling to press against his cheek. "That is why she has been elevated." Was it not?

But the final question stretched between them. Rendering a stolen moment of truth. "I blame Stigmata. Not you." And there was the harshness of it. The levels of grieving had found the mother bear in the throes of anger now, though it was a silent storm in which she carried. "Stigmata is gone. And to carry on Diaspora purely for his legacy will no longer suit the needs of the pack you both had established." Her lips curled, ensuring her smoky tune placed more emphasis on the word both, for Mahler's hand had been equal in the packs creation.