Nova Peak schädigen

Wylla readied herself for more explanations, more daggers for her heart veiled in proclamations of things he could not promise. Instead, Mahler said that he would show her he could be better. She yearned in her heart to believe him. After all this time…

She could not.

I need to be alone, she mumbled, but it was hardly necessary. Mahler, too, seemed intent on leaving this accursed ground. When she’d asked if his trip was fun, she’d meant nothing significant by it, or at least not the wound she’d unknowingly inflicted; she’d had no reason to suspect whatever ire made his voice short had anything to do with her.

Now she had fucked it up again, and him, too. She left broken pieces behind again, like she did every time. This time, she wanted to pick them up, but couldn’t. Nor could she imagine moving on to another. If she did, it would be mere duty, as damnable as his own sense of it, and she was not the sort for that. She loosed a breath, slipped into the trees, and disappeared.