Sawtooth Spire What will it take to make or break this hint of love?

"she is ill," he droned on, a doctor wearied at the end of a long day. supplies low; he must descend. and yet all mahler wished was the release of long slumber, uninterrupted hours. "i hope it is a voman that has turned his eye," mahler remarked, and then shook himself from the careless reverie.
"you look well, nyx." such things seemed to come easily to the mother; she appeared sated, settled. he was pleased to be in her presence, and attended her with all of his lessened focus, lying back against the earth with a low sigh. "do not mind my croakings of doom."