Sawtooth Spire zweiter teil

ABSOLUTELY NOT i'm ridiculously slow & yes absofruitly. post again or archive, its up to you <3

the thought that farming only worked in the high seat of mountains hadn't occurred to her. mahler had only the hurdle of her impishness to clear, but he did so with his wonted hardbitten wit -- phaedra didn't know how to respond. she tilted her lip at him, feeling incredulous that she would have misspoken so. 

"you're telling me it only works here? of course, i want to come back here," she made a sprawling gesture with the whole of her body, dancing around him as if she were the wheeling galilean moon to his auspicious jupiter. "the deer can have rivenwood," she mumbled with a scuff at the soil. 

she was still again, slowed in orbit, eyeing him like she eyed hares and gamebird and sweet autumn pears. this air was not air she was used to, and it was perhaps a mild form of hypoxic delirium that made her eager to unbridle, jump, and play; to test his patience as a teething cub would. 

"didn't know i had one of those," she commented wondrously, trying to ply delicate ceramic childhood memories to warm clay again so that she might mold him a wittier response.

alas, he was the only one to which that advantage was lent. "much less a famous one."

at his request, despite her lack of any storytelling skills whatsoever, phaedra went on to attempt to tell a story she had never before been told. full of twists and turns and tropes and potholes, by the end, she had exhausted her mind, and her father had ingeniously won himself some time of peace and quiet in his home of old.