Nova Peak jämmerlich

mahler, undone, and wondering how he might keep her from such things again. he had forgotten his own childlike wonder; his mnd thought only of danger, of malcontent wickedness that might crush phaedra, break one of her willowing limbs, blind her honeyed lilac gaze. and so he saw not her power, only the caution that he must, must impress upon her now.
but not now.
"unsere betten sind besser," he allowed himself to jest, while the panic of the moment before pounded away between the slats of his ribcage. and he looked toward the mountain, at its jutting head and the rounded, eventual promonotories of its long green spine.

a breath. "aber wir teilen uns das gleiche schöne zuhause." soft, firm, a declaration of coexistence with the taiga's inhabitants. they were the same now, he supposed, and looked to phaedra with a hint of mischief softening the craggy mien of his countenance. "vould you like to go and see the owls i found?"