Sawtooth Spire I bow to no law made by men who never bore a child.

mahler was mesmerized by the tiny figures, as much as he had been with phaedra, and thade, and even little astraeus. five children, the gargoyle considered in a fit of senseless glee. sagtannet had not only claimed these slopes, they continued again and again to make them their own.
"your loyalty has made this possible, nyx," he insisted, remembering how distressed she had been at the idea of feminine wrath. that, mahler hoped, would fall solely upon his broadside shoulders. he could bear it, if only to protect the most precious thing among wolves: their young. "i am happy to be here."
despite only a small time passing since she had laboured, the golden woman shone in motherhood. he blinked at her suggestion, having not expected it. a quick smile as he fell into consideration, looking down at
der säuglinge with a studious look.
"maybe ve call the little light vone elke," he suggested briskly, unsure of himself.