Noctisardor Bypass Dying for socialization

hope remained a mystery, though she was indeed a font of wisdom. mahler knew some of which she spoke, though it was good to hear it rephrased outside of his own voice. he thought of wylla, of sequoia, of laurel. and then upon his wife's face again.
they had missed a year.
mahler did not intend to wait again.
he was amused at the look that hope gave to the youngest wolf; he was not sure how much or how little the boy knew of such things, but if he wished to learn medicine, these things were adjacent.
"i am vorking on a new recipe for a pup-cough remedy," he told them both. "i do expect children vill be born in rivenvood this year."