Nova Peak gründung

"do not tempt me," mahler rejoined cheekily, falling then headlong into the alice-rabbit world of wylla's next statement. it rendered him silent for a ticking handful of seconds; he cleared his throat, thankful that she could not see the expression upon his cragged face.
"i vant that too," mahler murmured, more hoarsely than he would have liked, but he would not apologize for the beat of the love in his breast as he held wylla upon the viridian grass studded with a thousand alabaster flowerets. the side of their mountain, theirs, this land coursed by her silvermoon figure and his charcoal shadow following, claimed by them alone in a way that sagtannet had not been.
desperate for the never-ending of this second, mahler's breath caught in his throat; he drew back with folded ears to seek her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, the proud muscle where skull met neckline, all with sundry licks and laving and a whispered "i love you so very much, vylla" beating in his throat like a vow.