Noctisardor Bypass ich muss dir sagen

curious, that such a thing as time could be so unknowable and yet wreak so very much.
mahler's pragmatism could not carry him to the determined threshold where wylla stood, a silver-clad paladin ready to turn her eternal sword against the sickness that had risen in his chest.
mahler loved her for it, fiercely "yes," he choked out against the moongilt of her ruff. he lifted his lips to trace each brow, lovingly and equal around both her eye and the charcoal shadows where the other had been — lost in service to sagtannet. not lost, given! sacrificed for the mountain as well as his defense — avenging him.
then to her honed shoulders; he meant to soothe the blades of them with his caress.
mahler did not and could not care who came upon them in that moment. the world had fallen back into the velour of the lightstruck way in which all his regard for her cascaded around him.
as if his love at last was fully felt and experienced without the veneer of tiny steel chains which had covered its face for so long, a netting of metal and thorn.
gone.
he had belonged to her in love always. yet he would not say that, for only the yes need be spoken now — mahler, unfooted and wheeling through this dizzying, electric sky, and it seemed for a moment that the creeping granite smears inside him slipped back to reveal the greening after a burned forest.