Nova Peak blutbefleckt

Wylla looked giddily forward to the next time she might share Mahler's company alone, but when his voice summoned her down from the peak, it wasn't excitement that drove her rapid steps. That voice was all wrong, laden with pain, and it was enough to make her foolhardy and reckless as she flew down the slope.

By some stroke of fortune, she managed to plunge into the forest without slipping or twisting an ankle, only to find him with his fur caked in blood. Holy shit, she breathed as a sick knot twisted itself inside stomach. Mahler wasn't the type of man to seek conflict, so this could only mean one thing. She tried to collect her muddled thoughts into a tangible concept or a plan, but it was like grasping at the wind. All she had the capacity for was hurrying to his side.

Mahler! cried Wylla, practically slamming into him in her haste to reach him. For once, she felt neither guilt nor hesitation when she pressed against him in hopes that her slight form might be enough to hold him up. There was no shy nervousness in her tongue as she reached to bathe the nasty wound dug into the side of his neck, hoping to stem the flow even a little. Only a feeling of helplessness (she was no healer!) and a most immense, crushing fear (she would lose him, lose him, lose him) that eclipsed anything she'd ever felt besides the loss of Thade.

It all came out her in a strained snarl as she sobbed, who did this?!