Noctisardor Bypass caribbean blue

grief and respect twined together in a tight circle for mahler. "thank you, sequoia," he said with a good deal of gratitude, glancing between the son and daughter he did not yet wish to think of as abandoned. "i believe that if she vas able to come back, she vould."
the implication was grim. he forged onward. "i vill, of course, help you in every vay that i am able. rivenvood vill help to rear them." 
children were the lifeblood of each pack. that was one of myriad reasonings why he had allowed them to be born this year, despite his lack of siring. first to their mothers, then to their knitweave hamlet did each wolf belong.
rivenwood would need another leader. he hated to think with cold pragmatism, and felt it cut at his heart. 
it would be sequoia, if she wished to take the helm once the four had grown older and less reliant upon her. he would not ask now.
skaigona's clambering soon had its effect, and mahler stood to turn entirely, politely, surrendering a line of meat for the children from his craw.