Broken Boulder That gaze, it makes me anxious

a land cut up like that was not something mahler had ever envisioned. yet he liked the idea at once, picturing small plots of family territory tied beneath a looser leadership. unbeknownst to kaster, the gargoyle wondered privately if this was something he might be able to fit into the way that rivenwood currently worked.
yandolia also — it was musical, and the knowledge of that reminded mahler on a bittersweet note that it had been long months since a hint of songbird aria had come into his life. musiker once but no longer, and on a sudden, dizzying whim, the shadowpriest wondered if returning to the ocean might assuage these many things.
"i came from a smaller place," mahler mused, wishing to meet the pinne halfway with notes of his own. his recollections of dornenfelder were few and sparse, but he dredged some detail all the same. "a little villlage vith a council who chose the leader. ve invested ourselves not only to the hunt, but choosing green places vhere herds might be drawn. it vas a skill taught and educated into those volves."