Redtail Rise vaterschuld

a bitter, beloved in irony, that astraeus was no child of his body and yet knew the tongue he gave his own. he watched quietly the boy, and finally he sent his own gaze away, spinning toward the high misted treeline that sought brazenly to climb into the icy plains of the peak's pasture.
astraeus was not mistaken that no one had searched for him, and while mahler wished to explain each moment with a formulaic mathematica, it would not nothing to calm the rancorous hurt that surely had embraced the constellation with its thorned arms. 
wylla had been cruel. phaedra; he did not wish to assume, but his pearl loved her mother, and perhaps just as easily had spurned the abandoned boy as well. and mahler, stretching himself web-thinned and failing between the first four; would it have been easier for astraeus to have been treated with a cool indifference, set upon his way as soon as it was able? was love worth the upthrust jut of anguish between them.
"es ist nicht wahr dass ich dich verlieren wollte, astraeus." he would refute that claim first, perhaps; arguing against a broken heart was its own exercise in futility. "und wylla entscheidet nicht wer hier geliebt wird."
a lie, for she does. for she had. 
swallowing, his lavender stare reaching in solemnity for astraeus even if the boy would not grant him that. "wenn ich dich nicht zu meinem sohn gemacht hätte, hätte ich dich vielleicht auch nicht im stich gelassen." an admission. astraeus deserved more than any lie he might tell to mollify his own treacherous heart.