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

there was no forgiveness in laurel.
mahler pushed away from her, and sat there upon the bank in quietude.
"are you vith child?" he asked, finally and suddenly. he did not measure her ears with his explanations, of how he must know for the bettering of rivenwood. nothing with such insult, or what he presumed would be to her.
the words hung between them. he was a man rooted to the earth and she was the gale-wind forcing him into a bend, stripping leaves and small branches in the greatest effort to move him.
but mahler was a marble-carved gargoyle. the greater one attempted to budge him, the more solidly he sat, until not even ice breaking upon the face of his scoured cliffs could engender a notable response.
walls well-honed by his conflicts with wylla closed their thorn-burdened clasps along his shoulders. he seemed to grow more formal, more aloof, until at last he rose to his paws.
"allow me to bring you to your den, laurel, or search a new vone out for you."
mahler; removing himself until he was the nothingness she saw him to be.