Sawtooth Spire You took my hand and we pretended like I was your guy

her gaze was a warm gilding that chased any doubt from mahler's mind. his face broke into an open smile, answering wylla with the soft glow of his own stoneflower eyes, and he chuckled as he came to settle beside her. "i came here before sagtannet was made, and i looked and looked. and still," mahler went on, sweeping the expanse of the far distant sea, "there is still very much to observe."
his attention belonged to wylla now; he shifted closer and kissed her shoulder with a soft rumble of pleasure to be in her presence. even when exhausted, she was a tireless woman, serving the needs of their brood and now little astraeus with all that was in her. and while she was far firmer than he, wylla loved their children as fiercely as he could ever hope. 
tonight the evening-swallowed sun turned her into a haloed idol, and his chest ached with love for her; lips formed words before his ears heard them.
"do you think you vould vant to do this again? vith me?" mahler asked, hesitant only at the end.