Nova Peak blutbefleckt

the world seemed to tremble at the edges; mahler drew a long breath as a face he had not seen in many years shimmered to ghostly life before him. 
the shade seemed ready to speak, features contorted in worry. a blink, and the mirage fell to sand beneath the tortured countenance of wylla.
"oh," he groaned in a sound of relief, heedless of his blood which fell to her hackles in wide droplets of cherry-mead. "vell," mahler grit in a tone that tried to make itself light, "i vent up to the cliffs overlooking the sea, and a new neighbor vas attempting to ... establish herself."
for wylla's sake, chilled by her tone, ravaged by her uncommon tearfulness on his behalf, and thereby beset by a feeling of protection, mahler hoisted himself up and leant right shoulder against a tree. "then i had a companion, and then there vhere two more fighting us, then vone, then none, und then ein großer mann," mahler explained in a jovial slurring as his legs gave way and he plunged rockily back to his haunches.
"vylla, meine liebe, i know you are not ready for this, but you must go and get the medicine. it is kept in that hollow tree near the edge of the burned meadow." he could feel himself beginning to fade; mahler strove valiantly for the end of her voice and dropped his muzzle against her cheek, willing that he remain conscious.