Noctisardor Bypass I can't turn back around and doubt my destination

he had waited for her, filling with concern. he had left the bypass and gone to the foothills, but had not found laurel.
he thought of merrick, of ursus, of how she had spoken with such passion. he himself had not yet gone to the valley — and now laurel!
perhaps she had taken it upon herself?
mahler trudged in the direction of the lagoon, frowning. the sight of the birds there usually had the effect of soothing him; he was bemused despite his consternation, that watching the winged creatures should bring him such comfort in his later years.
was he so old?
or was it only the sensation of feeling?
there was blood upon the wind now, and mahler hastened his step —
"laurel!" voice desperate and relieved and strangled;
scarlet in the water, and as he looked more closely, toothmarks in her pretty pelt; fangs had grappled along her hackles;
mahler suffused with wrath and stepped toward her, fighting for control. "let me tend you, laurel. please. and then tell me who did this."
he was stark with horror.