Noctisardor Bypass Blasé and lucky tonight,

She’d been very composed before — but now… His gaze studied the change in her expression. Was it whatever contributed to the bile he scented from earlier? It was this something else?

His torn ears remained strained ahead in disbelief. Mahler had walked out of her life forever? What did that mean?

Vhat? He exhaled, an angry defense for his father on the cusp of his tongue before he realized. He was living her truth. His father had at least said goodbye, but... He never spoke of Rivenvood. Or of anyvonne named ‘Druid’. Anselm insisted. He wanted to believe that this simply wasn’t true, that there must be something else to the story… but how many nights alone had Anselm spent, half-crying for his father? His lips twisted as parts within him struggled to rectify Druid’s truth with his own. 

Explain. His expression twisted again. Please.