Northstar Vale My sun becomes your moon

whether or not diaspora was able was of little account to mahler. they had, thus far, and their claim had gone unchallenged. but the woman before him was not a threat, and quickly he weighed the pros and cons of battling this little band for the vale. mahler's calculations ended somberly; he would consult stigmata before moving forward with any plans.
"because you are close to where ve spent the vinter, frau liri," the man murmured softly. "not too near, but you have not gone unnoticed." he held her gaze, noting its rich and loamy tone that resonated with a quiet confidence. and behind it, a tapestry of scarring that bespoke a harder life than the woman's stature should have borne.
would diaspora add to it? he watched as she began to dig, glancing skyward a moment before resting his hard lilac stare on her once more. "as far as this illness, have you no healer?" a pointed question, to be sure, but not one altogether rooted solely in the benefit to diaspora.