Sawtooth Spire unordentlich

He was there among the rifling reeds when a scent hit him, the memory of it as strong as a fistful of bricks hurled towards his skull.

Stag froze, every fur aligned upright on his nap. His nose lifted, sifting through the wind -- surely....?

Then he saw as well as sensed the arrival of Mahler, carrying, supporting, dragging... He felt a chill rake down his spine. "Mom?" His voice was hoarse with surprise, and but for a moment Stag was stone-still as the reeds shivered around him.