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

mahler nodded, lilac eyes soft. "i understand. ve vill go —" home "— back to rivenvood. you vill have a long rest there." suddenly paling inside himself to consider how long she had traveled, how many weeks and days, and all dashed by his own stumbling words.
mahler touched ciri's shoulder softly.
and then he grabbed upon the burden, gave a soft rumble, and began to move off toward the distant stone walls: the throat of a mountain after so many years of living upon their slopes.
perhaps in noctisardor he and his child might find a new beginning, but still, mahler was plagued with not knowing where ciri had gone, and knowing too his own failure in this regard.
he must do better.