Northstar Vale My sun becomes your moon

a wry smile tipped the corners of mahler's dour mouth upward. "she vas persuaded to leave by a packmate of mine, who offered his very high rank in exchange for her defection." thorn; rogue, rake, and diasporan loyalist. fond he had become of the dark man who reminded him in many ways of stigmata himself. perhaps there too was a brother to be found in thorn. 
there was not, he discovered, many things to say to liri. with the issue of her vale-claiming between them, mahler found it important to maintain a certain sort of distance, though a goodly part of him wanted to help her complete the digging. "are you avare of the little hollow in the mountain vere herbs grow?" the gargoyle asked instead.