Noctisardor Bypass ich muss dir sagen

Paddling against the current, Wylla crossed the river separating thick pine woods from sprawling meadow and dragged herself up onto the other bank, only to trot on without shaking out the water. The sun was sinking steadily behind the surrounding cliffs, but it was still warm enough that the water on her skin was comfortable. The spare nature of her fur lent itself well to natural drying; within minutes it was already beginning.

By the time she stumbled across Mahler, her fur was only damp and sticking up every which way on the wind's whim. She saw him huddling there, limned in a golden halo, and hesitated. Her heart beat hard, but her mind cut sharply across any girlish inclination she had to heed that organ. Wylla had tried forgiveness once before and found nothing worthwhile for the trouble. It did not agree with her, not one little bit.

So, knowing he had likely seen her when he lifted up his head and finding she didn't care overly much what he thought of it, Wylla turned and headed for the trees around the pharmacy. If he needed her for some legitimate reason, she trusted he would call out, and if it was only to lecture her or spout more bullshit excuses why everything was always her fault, then she had a head start on walking away.