Noctisardor Bypass teil vier

the duck struck his shoulder. a puff of feathers spurted into the air, drifting down slowly around his hackles and now bowed head. its carcass rolled to the ground.
he was finally conquered, and he saw its writing swift and clearly as daybreak in the beauteous land of rivenwood. and mahler felt also that wylla was correct, that she had always been so. 
it was a terrible morass he had created. and now it threatened to mire them again. 
the sensation started in his heartstrings and worked its way like a vile poison to his throat.
"vylla, i am —"
"— i —"
choking on pride, stuttering upon the conception that it would be so cruel to say such now.
he turned to face to, to helplessly look at wylla, at the anger and the pain cutting from her.
and his own weakness.
and the worthless way his lilac stare paled and dimmed, and he felt the low and blackening fungus of that ugly creeping deep inside his blood.
it was fitting, after it all.