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

When Mahler shared that his former second was Ill, Nyx at first wondered why the fuck he even let her gain access to their home. Brow furrowed, she tried to regain control of her darker thoughts: what if she's contagious? If she comes to close to the pups? What if this is a trap?

She felt she knew Mahler better than to blindly allow sickness near his offspring. No, he would understand the signs of illness better than anyone, knew what was able to be cured and what could not. An expert in his field, Nyx wanted to trust his judgement of Takiyok, but her trust in the white wolfess had never been particularly strong. She doubted there would be trouble, but she would prepare herself for it nonetheless.

"Wintersbane will be fine," she commented, not finding the strength to worry for their absent Eisen when she had enough to be concerned about already. Mahler was probably right: the breeding season was waning, and it was likely that Wintersbane could be seeking the embrace of another before its end.

He told her she looked well, which was a compliment well received. Nyx felt good, for the first time in a long time, and she had Mahler to thank for that. The General had proven himself loyal to her by fulfilling a promise made long ago, one that had certainly rocked the boat. While the tawny Ostrega did not know the full extent of Wylla's bitterness, she did expect her to fume over the birth of Sagtannet's latest litter.

Nyx, unwilling to dwell on the arrogance of other she-wolves who might wish to have Mahler to themselves, was glad to share his company that evening. She watched him sink heavily to the ground, exhaustion wearing on him, and she shifted her weight to lean over his shoulders and preen the dark fur of his neck with careful teeth in an attempt to comfort. "Croak away," she told him, a playful and teasing edge to her tone, "I'm all ears.