Nova Peak jämmerlich

phaedra's gaze had shifted, wylla's poured gold in the watercolor purple that was his own. mahler held them for the eternity that seemed to pass sans the breath held in his chest as she looked to him. for a long moment he felt as though things might be single-stitched in a beaconing toward hope. the shade was ineffably her own, the gargoyle decided, as was the light that played upon her pupils as a joke lilted into the air.
the glow that fell away almost in the same moment, sending mahler plummeting back to the unsurety he now bore seedlike in her presence. for a moment he did not stir, only turned noiselessly back to the moose. woodcoal ear swept at her words, however; amusement despite the suspended severity of their fractured bond stole into his heart. 
his lips moved to answer her commentary upon the impending transmogrification of the great beast, but phaedra sent him again into a coasting of the unexpected. in the words he had taught her, no less. high above her head, though not so high as before — it seemed she grew taller with each moment — the lavender eyes misted.
he wished to turn to phaedra, to speak, to embrace her, but she had only just come to him. mahler then sought logic, and instead only shifted somewhat closer to her with an appreciative brush of his arm that did not long linger, worried he was that she would pull away.
"i did not know that," he commented what felt an eon later. "i vould be interested to know vhere ... they go to sleep," he offered, voice dropping some volume and inching toward conspiratorial. "is it undervader as vell?"