Phoenix Maplewood entschlossen

mahler gave no outward reception of her commentary. the girl's defection in the end had become a factor, a reason that wylla and himself had taken the wolves of sagtannet across the world.
and then again, and mahler now knew he could never commit to staying in one locale, not when change arrived on harsh wings.
her eloquence was followed by quietude. the gargoyle contemplated it, and then roused himself to approach on stone-firm legs, seeking the pallor of scents that clung to her aura. 
mahler did not believe she had learned, else she would have begun her apology properly. but he felt no harshness in himself, for a great portion of what had happened was due to the young warrior's age, the breadth of years between them.
"i accept," the gargoyle said at last. "you are full of youth and ability. let the old ones teach you control," he added at the last, a bare hint of self-deprecation cutting through the somberness of his scarred face.