Arrow Lake trauern

Mahler’s word was all she had left in that moment—as jaded as the world had begun to carve into her thoughts, the trembling mother tilted her muzzle up, brushing softly against the underside of the stygian wolf—her only ally in that very moment. She had little choice but to trust him, and as the hollow pain of a world without Stigmata continued to settle upon her heart, the she-wolf remained coiled against him, seeking comfort in the darkest of times and quivering anew with guilt, anger, and heartache for all that had transpired.