Sawtooth Spire süße augen

he explained the nature of death to her, and she was perplexed as to why he thought it might befit a means of deterrence from her investigatory mouth. she liked the quiet—it was antonymous to everything that vexed her. quiet was soft, stillness was no brothers like thade jumping on her head or stepping on tails. to sleep forever, bodied forth only in dreams (he had never mentioned a dreamless sleep); it almost made her want to experience it more. in no suicidal capacity, mind, but there was a sense of purpose within her that compassed the world around her, and he had simply put a new port of call on her internal push-pin adventure map. ”ich möchte dord hin.” she said.
satisfied with his answer for the time being, she vaulted from the log and blundered across the moss, folding like origami on herself as she made impact. 
her agility and elegance needed some work, but her attitude was up to scratch at least. phaedra rolled to her back, now between mahler’s forelegs, and thumped her tail against the ground, paws nestled against her breast. "cool dwick, huh? i godt dad and mmmorehnngg—” she grunted, hefting herself off the ground as he did as well, moss and wet leaves barnacled to her backside. 
as fun as getting drowned by the boy while mahler’s back was turned sounded, phaedra offered a lukewarm shrug in answer to his inquiry. 
it was astraeus’ edict, then, if he wanted to river-stomp. although mother had already taken her there, the boy had not yet been, and phaedra was not as mean-spirited as him to deny such an expedition.