Sleepy Fox Hollow Gave up on it, but honey, you got my hopes up

had she not beckoned herself into a beacon that burnt amid all of diaspora, he would have found her.
mahler had awoken transported.
the year before, he had wisely taken himself away where he might be alone and therefore avoid temptation. as it was, wylla's scent was curling its maddening tendrils around him almost before his eyes had opened.
a hitch of his lip to taste the air; a low, possessive growl quite unlike him rearing proud in his throat. he had not seen jigsaw in some time, which meant that maegi's mate was the only male within diaspora.
but there were others who would come; his pack had blossomed in the form of wylla and mahler took up her trail with an almost irate swiftness.
the greyscale she-wolf strode through the snows with a confidence he would have attributed to takiyok, and the gargoyle's hackles rose concernedly.
it was the primacy of his being that had at long last overtaken mahler; his own banner unfurled corrupt and unflagging before the skies, and lavender eyes glimmered with an unfamiliar cast as he stepped proudly toward her.
drawing up to full height, the shadowpriest attended wylla with an expression that would have borne its usual impassivity, were it not for the haunting burn of sharp amethyst.