Sawtooth Spire sunlight

mahler too felt the remembrance of her face, but the memory was blurred now, lost to the long months and hard seasons that had passed since then. he focused upon her brief display, and noted it was one that his bearing commanded. had he approached the woman in a more affable way, mahler did not know that she would have submitted.
her tones inquired after a place in sagtannet, but the gargoyle lowered his head until it sank low between muscular shoulders, and tested her with a step forward.
no locale for those who could be seen to challenge — even a slight bit. he would not tolerate the seed of foreign males within his ranks; he would not tolerate another wolf who might turn out to be similar to the fool zarya.
but in that instance, it had been mahler which had made a jester of himself.
he would not repeat his mistake.