Nova Peak Yeah, I'm loving all your warning signs

mahler was aware of a swift and inward crashing as the silence pressed on. he had meant to be silent in deference, fearing his slow approach to conflict would be a direct humiliation. 
but it had been taikon, and the lilac stare shifted as the man turned.
wylla had dismissed them; the lines of her body were set into familiar pathways of ire, and mahler knew at once the truth of his final dismissal.
nor had he missed how stag had risen —
but his gaze remained upon wylla as the wolves of sagtannet filtered away and a foreboding sense of a greater wrath filled the air.
belated; cursed; he was silent, worthlessly silent.