Sawtooth Spire gespenstisch

Nyx could not stomach the thought of losing either of her little daughters. Since learning of young Thade's disappearance from the mountain days before, the tawny lioness had been unable to shake the discomfort of such a thing happening to her own offspring. She watched the cubs quietly as they explored the clearing beyond their den; had the fox she'd killed been responsible for Sagtannet's most recent loss?

She felt for Wylla, truly, despite not being her biggest fan. When her own babes were crooned to sleep, bundled together for the night, she had shed tears for a puppy who might never experience such tenderness again, for a dam who was left without answers. Yet despite the ache in her heart for another mother, Nyx found herself unable to shake the niggling doubt she felt that the sharp-tongued Eisen could ever feel such remorse for her should their positions be reversed.

Instead of offering condolences, she would do what she did best: stay out of the way. She would turn focus entirely on the upbringing of her own children, and see to it that no one would take them from her.

The arrival of a stone-faced Mahler brought Nyx' sable lobes forward, but the absence of light in his frosted lilac stare answered the question that hung on the tip of her tongue. She remained silent, settled at the arch of her cave's entrance, knowing that no words from her maw could ever smooth the pain he currently felt.