Sawtooth Spire It's only been about a couple of days

wylla pried many things from him, the man thought to himself, and perhaps with no great attempt. it was her directness, so like his own, that continually startled mahler, and this time it was no different.
"ve had differences over vhat to do this season, and i was cruel." the winterwhite had opened to mahler, and he had rejected her affections. she had not ceased her love, nor her respect; indeed, he had sensed forgiveness in takiyok. she had given her word upon the right of her rank, and he had agreed.
but he had not told her about wylla, had not warned takiyok of the mutiny brewing in diaspora.
instead, mahler had turned his support into a lie, had turned his rank into a cudgel, had shamed the proud northerner for the final time.
her fangs, flashing.
his list of transgressions against the former kapitän was great.
lips tightened; he did not want to speak more of takiyok. wylla had his heart, and insofar as mahler was concerned, when this time had passed, she would also be the sole recipient of what his body offered.