Sawtooth Spire when i've always been distant, and i've always told lies for love

"i am," mahler answered after a long moment had passed. lips pursed thoughtfully. "i think about diaspora a lot," he admitted ruefully, lavender eyes scanning the distant horizon. "perhaps too often, for i find myself a pensive old man these days." a soft chuckle. "but i am glad ve came here, to sagtannet. happy, even. and i am happy to have you along as vell, stag." 
a flick of charcoal ear. "are you happy here?"