Noctisardor Bypass bedauert

Wylla listened silently until the moment that the soft verdant light caught a glisten in Mahler's eyes. Then it was her turn to feel her breath squeezed in her lungs while her tongue turned to sandpaper. The gentle throb of her shoulder slowed and shuddered with her heart beat, which seemed to suspend itself a moment there, a beat missed in shock.

She didn't wonder about Star's fate or even the stories their wayward son might speak when he returned; those concerns were diminished entirely next to this. She had seen many emotions buried beneath the weight of Mahler's stoic pride. Every open door slammed shut and latched with iron, every time. This was new.

What, she mumbled, drawing her paw back now as though afraid she had done this—or that he was reliving some regret of his for having found her, or that he was about to tell her he had found another love in her absence and that it was not the same anymore, these paranoias rising unbidden and immediate. It was all she could do not to jump to becoming defensive and assuming the worst.

No. That had not served her in the past, and Wylla knew she couldn't take another rejection or another turned back, not now, not when she had nothing left to lose. She had to use her words for once: What's wrong?