Shadow Mountain Wire

breath stolen — again! lestan felt as though he must shift now to focus on the mechanics of breathing. why! he wanted to ask again; had there been even so much as a mud puddle he might have glanced into it with a deep confusion.
my mayfair
ah; but there was indeed a catch, a little springblade in the soft underbelly of his sentiment. winter's wake had never seen him in the throes of madness, had never seen him scrabbling in the muck for a talisman, howling to feverbuilt entities and damned as if he were any other forgotten monster of creation.
you never found me, came the foreboding voice of that wretched little ivory. 
lestan was helpless as winter's wake devoured him again, favoring the mayfair with stygian glint and caressing words. step hurried after the other again, belly clutched tight as he realized the singular concept his mind was to have another summit topped.