Sawtooth Spire mürrisch

@Nyx, when u have tiiime <3

he came down from the reaches of the mountain, crossed the river windholme at a narrower expanse, and paced into a field of flourishing poppies. lowering his muzzle down toward the red flowers, mahler was reminded of their properties.
to treat pain.
to end one's life.
to hang one in a purgatory between.
his lavender eyes drank in the sight of the nearest unfurled blossoms; he blinked and thought of the great chasm in his pack and within his family. how different might — no. the gargoyle afforded himself nothing of that sort.
he knew he must press on, but helplessly stood transfixed in the glowing scarlet field, awareness dissolving beneath what if.