Nova Peak jämmerlich

the impulse to withdraw into herself and shrink away was strong when his shoulder touched hers, but phaedra bit her cheeks and held herself genteelly still.
her scruff tousled as the mitts of a lightsome breeze grasped her fur and she turtled her neck at the ticklish sensation, a fair expression of mirth parting from her lips. the moose lifted its great head, jaws mashing the leaves and berries as it stared towards the two with a careless ear flick and inhaling flare of wide-set nostrils.
deja vu. but this wasn't sieger. she thought with a spearing sadness how she would never know how august the stag she had named would come to be, or how many wives would constellate his greatness. she had bequeathed to him a title of dignity, and phaedra dreaded to think she would never know if she had doomed him or granted him a boon in doing so. this made her head drop sadly, though she would have no words to speak for the abrupt slip into melancholy. 
mahler's husk brought her back into the present, and she lifted her pale diadem with flowed ears. she pondered on his question with wry lips and eyes focused on invisible whimsies, then glanced at him when his voice cloaked itself in a conspiring change of timbre. "underwa—" her imagination plunged her into the concept of mermoose and phaedra was swiftly visited by a fit of snorting laughter, "like mooseidon?" she stifled her laughter into softer giggles once remembering they were being quiet now.
after some small moments, she murmured, "i wonder if ever he feels only," a delve into deeper wonderings. her eyes fixed on the ungulate still plying the frondescence without any concern for the wolves. "or if he misses his family," a sigh. she propped her chin on the bush to contemplate life as a moose. it did look lonely in her picturings.
caintigern never once complained of missing his mother. maybe he and the moose were alike in that way. this particular one seemed quite content with its lot in life, but she couldn't help but reflect on more pensive things.