Bitterroot Valley tragische

stop he did, drawing up raggedly some feet away. aware that on a snowier day he might have collided with her, mahler was swift to pass judgement: had she no sense to lead her out of the path of others? the gargoyle did not ponder the idea that she had been within the valley before him; her annoyed demeanour set his teeth on edge. the stony lilac of his gaze found the eldritch firelight of her own, as if some spirit-glow had found its way into her stare, and then he began to walk around her.
perhaps another might find it rude, but the musiker had been given no suggestion that the she-wolf wanted anything to do with him, and so decided arcing around her form in a wide berth was the best option for the pair of them. to another, perhaps it was quite awkward; to mahler, it was simple.