Noctisardor Bypass [m] The taste of liquor on your lips

in another moment perhaps mahler might have spoken, might have said something poetic, one of his stirring reverent prayers for the future. but in this one there was nothing but wylla. she wound herself around him and mahler felt the anger hitch and dissolve for a moment.
in this moment he saw himself as vitally feral, reaching with blind want and no strategy for his mate, his wife. he thought of the year before, when he had found her; no. his mind roved away from that. it did not matter. she was here now, present with him.
their eyes met, the sungold and the lilac that their eldest bore together. mahler lowered his broad head, lying it over her shoulders for a moment. he pressed a kiss to her side and then another, running his own charcoal body against the small radiant strength of her own.
healing after failure. 
rivenwood taking a firm and defiant step forward.