Noctisardor Bypass I keep trying to let you go

the saints.
praimfaya.
the man confirmed wylla's words, and mahler was taken aback. the smile that came to life on the saint's face tempered the gargoyle against him.
but it was the continued, audible rudeness of the pale woman to wylla that flagged the graf's tail high. hackles rippled upon his muscled shoulders, and when he spoke it was through the naked and shining teeth of a snarl. 
"leave."
it no longer mattered who they were or why they had come. their incredible disrespect upon the borders of a strange pack, coupled with who mahler knew them to be, and topped by kynareth's condescension and seeming threat to rivenwood, had ended this meeting. and it was the fact that wylla especially had been targeted that surged the shadowpriest to the fore he should have had formerly.
mahler found himself suspicious as well, a blaze along his spine, that praimfaya should be the only one to have intended direct contact with the saints. but now she was gone, and they were here in the bypass.
the graf advanced, a growl thundering in his chest. if they did not move then he would attack, and the seconds ticked away beneath his hard lilac stare.