Sawtooth Spire For thirty minutes bet we played that game

Stag accepted the news gracefully, even if he did not agree with it. He never wanted to leave home. Not now, not ever - not for pretty ladies or gorgeous vistas. Not for nothing.

Time had a way of chipping away at youthful idealism. He would learn, soon enough.

His eyes dropped as he caught the terseness in Wylla's expression. Wylla wouldn't have known it, but Stag would have likely felt the same -- he was cut from a cloth similar to Wylla than Mahler, and in that, would have understood steadfastedly her reasons for keeping the General at bay.

Sensing it was a sore topic Stag tried to reroute. "Oh. That's too bad. Have you ever met any other guy you'd be mates with? Maybe we could both find someone who has just left their home and were looking for a new life." Wistful and feeble thinking, though Stag briefly entertained the idea of this alternate world where both he and Wylla (and Phaedra by extension) were happy.