Sawtooth Spire I just wait for us to go in circles

Wylla listened, and bobbed her head in a slow nod. Mahler was ever the caretaker, gathering those who were ill and injured and seeking to make them better. Abruptly, she recalled the wolf who had traipsed around in Diaspora, claiming to be Mahler's ward while denouncing him in the same breath. Not for the first time, Wylla wondered if Mahler's tendency to care for the weak and sick was a weakness in and of itself, but it was a thought she would never give breath to. It was both his finest characteristic, and the one she liked the least.

Takiyok, at least, was a strong wolf when she was at prime fitness. Wylla couldn't fault Mahler for helping an old, dear friend. If Lycaon was to show up injured or ill near their borders, Wylla would do the same for him. It's spring, Wylla said, sweeping her muzzle in a wide arc that encompassed the forest around them. Plenty of resources. There's no need to repay anything. Just... spend some time with Stag.

She pursed her lips, uncomfortable, but finally added, kids need their mothers in their lives. Hidden there under the surface, a quiet question: are you staying this time?