Cerulean Cape winterlied

gonna pop this in the archives! thank you<3

mahler made no move to stop the girl, nor to redirect her in any way; the trail of his lavender gaze followed her trajectory along the beach as mahler hunched in an ugly manner against the biting wind that raked along the sands. perhaps she would reach her goal; perhaps not. it mattered little to the man, who did not soon quit the landscape for grimnismal, but in time returned to the sea-lashed place.