Larksong Grotto i see fire

It made Laurel feel more confident that Mahler would listen to her signals and that he would stay away from her. She was done with having to tell men that they needed to stay away at this point in her life. It made the trip more comfortable, at the very least, even though she often questioned her choice of companionship through it.

Now here she was, in the place where the was first faced with the wistfulness and betrayal of other wolves; of men; of her father.

Mahler pointed out a rabbit white as snow and Laurel looked at it as it sniffed. It was unclear to her if he intended to catch it at first, but it seemed from his posture and actions that he was only here to watch it. Intriguing.

Eventually he spoke again. He came here with his daughter. Ironic, thinking of her experiences with her father and then standing here with a man who'd visited with his daughter. Was it a nice trip? Laurel asked him. She sighed and then added an observation of her own: It seems both as if it's a lifetime ago that I was last here, and that it was just yesterday. It seems as if the lands are now just lands instead of a home, and at the same time there's still so much feeling left in the form of memories. She expected to feel joy upon seeing the lands, to feel happy knowing the lands hadn't changed and thinking back to all she and Indy had endured here. But instead thoughts of betrayal came to mind and there were few happy thoughts to be found in Laurel's brain. A disappointment, and one she could've seen coming if only she'd thought of it more thoroughly.

But that's the problem, isn't it, dearest? You don't think. Even now that she had wilted into a frightened little flower Laurel still held some of her rash and impulsive nature.