Whitebark Stream i'll take the sweat from your palms,

perhaps she was wrong. "easier to blame myself than admit i am not omnipotent." another joke, but one not so funny, or half as light. praimfaya weighed upon him, and more than that, the fate of rivenwood. he had meant to give her the reins of the pack, and transition himself toward retirement.
the cough welled in mahler.
when it passed, he cleared his throat, swallowing back the copperish taste of blood.
"it is getting vorse, the illness."
the first time he had admitted such, and it showed in the pattern of misery that came to his face now.