Noctisardor Bypass the longships

mahler had watched the children grow, teaching them what lessons they would glean, seeking one or another or all for a hunting lesson, a sparring competition. their lengthening limbs and burgeoning independence struck a pang in him, as it had during the time of phaedra's upbringing.
and thade —
still an old wound, those long and horrible months.
the night was drawn dark. mahler prowled along familiar pathways, charcoal aud distracted by a well-known little voice. the aroma of dark loam beneath the boulders of birdsong reminded him of the blessing from rain. and there, beneath the glow of the stars and the moon, was druid.
"you have been up late," he commented. the lilac eyes did not miss the slow coil of small scales around her ankle, but mahler sensed no danger. he dipped his head to take a long draught of the clear water, awaiting the roamer's alibi.