Noctisardor Bypass light a candle for the dead, with sprigs of fir do warm their bed

mahler harrumphed to cover his surprised sputtering. "that is entirely up to your mother. she must decide she vants to have children again." they were veering, careening, even, toward a subject of education that the gargoyle had desperately hoped sequoia would explain.
"i believe you are ready now." he brushed the top of her head with his cheek. "but are you ready to hunt vith other volves? perhaps the vones in duskfire?"