Nova Peak If you must leave, leave as though fire burns under your feet

it had been near a month since the gargoyle's tribulation upon the cliff. the side of his next remained a twisted mass of pink scars, along with the scanned facial lacerations. but it had been a relief to know that his gait would not be affected. the cuts to his flank had healed well, the swiftest of the lot.
he had come back from his first patrol in many weeks. wylla's scent was painted thickly outside the denmouth, tinged in blood and the coastal fragrance she had brought back with her.
and the smell of that demon.
heartbeat quickened. "vylla?" he inquired hesitantly, but did not wait for an answer. mahler moved inside, inching toward her small, curled figure. exhaustion had her deep within its clutches, but there was a great sense of wrongness about it all. once more he spoke her name, nudging along the she-wolf's jawline.