Mudminnow River If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.

it was her. mahler gaped dumbly, and then his muscular legs began to churn, carrying him swiftly to ciri — ciri, he could scarcely believe it — until he stood before his daughter and inhaled a breath that hurt him all the way through.
"i knew — i vas told you had died in the snow. vith your mother," voice distant and bittered and desperately wishing to warm to the living vision of her. but the appearance of cirilla only confronted mahler with the new and horrid regrets, that he had given his daughters up, that he had been cruel in devoting himself again to rivenwood, that he had failed all he loved once more in this moment.
"you vere gone, and then moonspear vas destroyed. elke —" tones sharp and trailing. mahler found himself silent. how had she found him? how had she come back? "vhere did you go?"