Moonspear In all the good times, I find myself longing for change.

Unlike the last time he had seen her, she seemed… happy. It had been a long time since he had seen that emotion cross her features, certain the last time he had seen such a thing had been when they had first set foot in region with fresh eyes and dreams. It was enough to soften his features, though he also took note of the dark babe that moved against the darker coat of Mahler. Nyx wasted no time in introductions and it confirmed the budding wonder he had.

He took note of the fact that this did not seem to be a social call, however. From what Hydra had described of Mahler, he had anticipated someone more regal and smooth; this wolf before him seemed hollow, aplomb with conflicting emotion that eked its way out. The children carried doubt, seeming to shy away. It contrasted against the bright glimmer of happiness he found in Nyx.

The discomfort remained low in his stomach.

The cogs turned, mashing his thoughts like errant fingers too close to the machine.

He found himself asking his sister: “So what’s brought you out this way?”