Noctisardor Bypass i fell into my fear, and took a lie for a truth

mahler let amusement soften his features. "this summer vill be six years," the man said. "it is a compliment that i do not look such." the ache in his bones belied this, however; the gargoyle still felt himself appropriately spry, but longer afternoon sleeping had become a welcome part of his day.
death was not something he considered. there were many years between he and death, as laurel pointed out.
mahler was not a correct judge of years in the more feminine, but the complexity of her features, coupled with the sudden close of their conversation, gave her a mien that was older. it was not in her appearance so greatly, only the caution that reminded mahler of his own.
he wondered if he might have offended the woman with some part of his tale, but did not dwell upon it. she would return or she would not.
"this lake does not yet have a name," mahler murmured at length.
the osprey had gone for now.