Arrow Lake What are people but deaths that haven't happened yet?

his children had been so, fond of faces, not so fond of strengthening the muscles in their neck. mahler would have liked to look at dragomir longer, admire the small paws and round belly, but a curious tightening around his eyes foretold grief. not wanting to alarm the babe with the contortion of his broad features, the gargyole steadied himself with a slightly quivering breath and nuzzled the back of the boy's tiny head, shifting closer to assure the child that he was close. 
in such a short time, he had grown very fond of the little ducklings in diaspora, and hoped to see them all reared well to adulthood, before his eyes.