Nova Peak tränenfleck

it had been a fortnight since mahler had dragged himself back to the peak. wylla had taken all the leadership duties upon her small shoulders, and the gargoyle was ashamed that he had not been able to help her. due to her quick work, however, the man had avoided the blood-fever.
the tissue upon his neck was still tender, gently covered now, but any pulling would open the wound easily. the lacerations upon his face had faded to knots of blood in short ribbons of scarring. mahler shifted, teeth baring in a wince at the tug of toothmarks in his flank. "nur ein durcheinander," he groused to himself. stoneflower gaze turned now to the bit of outdoor sky he could see, tucked back as he was into the cavern's recesses. still grey with rain, mahler surmised, and with a sigh he let his muzzle fall across his forelegs, considering in grim silence the fight that had led to his current state.