Nova Peak blutbefleckt

wylla had sounded a death knell, promised to shed blood for him, but mahler was only relieved when she began to work over his wound. lavender gaze flicked to her grim expression.
don't leave me
jaws too numb to answer, to reassure her, mahler breathed a long and broken sigh, allowing at last himself to be folded between thick velveteen mists.

* * *

mahler came awake with a grunt, wincing as his head rose from the flattened grasses. dark now, with rain still filling the air, the peak seemed somehow at once both too open and too small. "vylla." he searched for her with muzzy lilac gaze, squinting through the droplets.
thirst now, thudding under the agony. but her swift work had kept the demon of infection at bay, at least for now.
mahler shifted, brought himself to lean upon his elbow. anguish stabbed through him again, but sagtannet was still new in this place. mahler could ill-afford to lose the land they had only just made their own.
what was his worth if he could not protect his own? despite the protestations of his sore limbs and lacerations, bruised muscles, exhaustion, mahler's gaze tightened. a great price indeed to exact for peace.
and what of the hunter still remaining? what of the young sea-wolf who had aided mahler? dry tongue bathed dry lips; he lapped gently at the rain and began the slow battle to regain his footing.