Phoenix Maplewood She cut too deep and she left me scarred

mahler paused at the low rasp of the other's voice, noting that his own too cracked with disuse: "no." the musiker glanced at the jagged stone mouths, then returned his gaze to the sable man. with a low grunt of affability, mahler approached with a cool and wary gait, seeking to take the warrior's scent if it was allowed.