Sawtooth Spire when i've always been distant, and i've always told lies for love

Stag couldn't stop the brief crestfallen expression that inched across his face at the mention of his mother - he missed her terribly, and many times had regretted his decision to stay here. He was not a wayfarer like his siblings, a commander like Praimfaya, or even a fierce wolf like Wylla. He was just, simply Stag -- and a homebody to boot.

He did not believe he had greatness in him, even if Mahler said otherwise. He did not believe Mahler was lying, but maybe his affection of Stag was clouding his judgment. Maybe he was overvaluing the boy simply by nature of his subjective proximity. Stag, uncomfortable under the fixation of Mahler's accolades, was eager to change the subject and looked at Mahler in surprise. "Why does she hate the foothills?"