Sleepy Fox Hollow one by one

with his thoughts upon the hinterlands, mahler roved the borders of the hollow aimlessly. stag now, tripped away; he recounted the names of the ones lost, and presently began to gather pebbles.
a dire, monotonous game; the gargoyle nudged them into a semi-circle around a larger grey stone. stigmata, he decided, the death to precipitate it all.
he was roused from his grim contemplations by a summons, and swept up the ridge to greet the foxfire at their gate. aware that the famine had tolled his weight away, mahler nevertheless drew himself to great height and lay his lavender gaze upon the woman, waiting.
the rain fell; he appraised her form with the weary practiced air of a general seeking new bodies for his army, though in his kill-brother's absence, he felt less their military might.