Sleepy Fox Hollow lächeln

they are muy excelente at ending every other meeting this way *smacks mahler about*

he had meant it generally — put yourself into a place where you must make all sundry decisions. but of course he had communicated this poorly, of course wylla robbed him of his tongue's usual ability, of course!
she rounded upon him and scored him time and again with her own lashings, which stung all the more for her restraint. the flame of mahler rapidly cooled, for that was all he knew to do; features closed to colorless passivity.
but rapidly his mind worked, mulling over all wylla had said; he was by turns aggrieved and affronted. was the utterance of love to be the end-all for everything that had come before? why would such fickle emotion rule her, and how could she ask it of him?
should i be swayed by every declaration of love!? he wanted to shout after her, but remained rooted. should my feeling for you alter all of your future? you have not even formally returned my affection!
and he would be accused of selfishness!
prideful pluming of breath spilling from flared nostrils; the general planted himself stubborn and bull-like to watch wylla go, and then swept himself about-face and marched arrogantly off to attend a more secluded clime where he might agonize over the truth of what she had said, and the reality of his own carefully laid way.