Nova Peak If you must fight, fight with yourself and your thoughts in the night

he had meant to show wylla solidarity by meandering over the core weakness of sagtannet: having never withstood an extended conflict. even diaspora had shown teeth. sagtannet had not; they avoided conflict by relocation, and now that it was upon her doorstep the pack was not ready to rally.
wylla required decisive action; mahler wished to discuss things firsthand. the wildness of his third year was long over;  he was a tamed man. perhaps that was the extremity of their difference. 
and mahler would have liked to be compassionate as wylla snapped her last, but the moral failing of a man is that he grows defensive before logical. she was leaving, and in his mind it was due to the fact that sagtannet had questioned her rather than rallied. 
mahler's flawed decision not to react to taikon was the end of it — trust him to see it belatedly. not in this moment — a lash of his tail, the fur along his shoulders twitching but not rising to life upon their charcoal hills. he faced into the distance a moment, cold air causing scar tissue along his jawline and throat to ache. she was not happy here, had not been happy here. and subsequently, mahler had grown the same.
ironically, the arrival of taikon had sparked his gut with apprehension. was there a portion of wylla's anger reserved not in the general sense of disrespect, but for the other male himself? a personal affront attached to the name? he allowed himself to toy darkly with the idea a long, self-indulgent moment, then cast it aside. no. wylla had no heartfelt aspersions as mahler suspected; it was the man's flout and his own 
why would you order sagtannet to battle and then abandon them? grit another thought into his mind. 
he did not know how to answer in a way that mattered.
"vell. you did tell me that you deserved better."