Sawtooth Spire süße augen

phaedra left the plaguy nature of the boy and his caboose out of account. once she noticed, if she had noticed (she was far more interested in just about anything else) she would have simply goosed him with her cold nose. she didn’t need to play teacher’s pet—she already had her papa wrapped around her finger. 
to that end, she felt free to ignore the curriculum and exploit this opportunity to play in the forest, a rare treat due to the very things mahler addressed. presently, the pale prinzessin rolled away from under his paw once he lowered his genteel head to separate the pair, for reasons she was not aware of as her attention had a tendency to hyper-fixate on one thing and that One Thing happened to be the delightful concept of death at the moment of the boy's churlishness.
his wiseacre remark had made her nose crinkle dubiously—there were plenty of things to eat besides meat; in fact, she’d stuffed her tummy full of many delicious fox-plums one afternoon. there had been peals of laughter to see mama’s appalled expression when she showed up with a bright red snout and unfurled a bright red tongue. the recalling of it made her giggle aloud to herself, though the context of this outburst was withheld to her memory. 
after her father admonished the flotsam-pup for spoiling for a fight, with an arch grin she twinkled on her toes and scrambled onto a rotting log, crossing her gaze blandly over astraeus to mouth wordless awe as she cast about the virescent scenery that wove an unbelievably complex fabric of life around and amidst them. ”now,”
—”buh, papa—” she interrupted, but was too quiet (or rude) to be addressed. she strung her toes out with an eager grunt in her throat. his voice was droning on, but she waited for him for finish. in the meantime, the girl began looking around, up, down, delivering sly i'm gonna getcha looks to the toadstools—and then had an epiphany that these particular shrooms were different from the parasols in her garden, despite their similar white tophats. these were larger, and smelled sickly honey-sweet, while hers had a pleasant nutty scent. she would have to show papa later to confirm, and impress upon him that she had learned something despite her arbitrary and limited bandwidth of attentiveness. 
”do you see how they grow in the vet places?” he finished with a question that she fully expected him to answer anyway, as she had learned from the last several quizzes. phaedra brooded over it in the solitude of her mind anyway, noting how everything did indeed feel wet all the way through. even her own fur had dampened from being pinned down in the moss, she noticed while licking down the soft white floss of her chest. 
a silk-covered ball of spider eggs hidden in a cranny of the log were brought into her focus, but she looked back towards mahler when his silence lingered and an opportunity presented itself. 
”vadi,” she tried again, firmly this time and in the language that came easier to her tongue as she straddled the log with her stomach. ”was bedeuded 'die'?” she had to know, if something was verboten for such a reason. she had to measure the consequence against the worth of youthful revolt.
”is’id like wen i frew up cause i ade a lods? war das die?”