Arrow Lake all these in-betweens that bar my youth

he was stone-still as trench reached to him, and then lowered himself slowly as not to startle the child. struck by how much this moment reminded him of meeting dragomir, mahler swallowed and rumbled a light invitation to the youngster. his practiced gaze was satisfied by the progress that trench had made; even if he lagged behind his littermates somewhat, what mattered was that his life had been preserved.
mahler credited himself with none of this; that his patients past and present had survived was due to nature's decision. his own skills could only preserve a wounded or ailing creature so far, and then it must be surrendered to time.
"you are doing very well," the gargoyle murmured as he lay sphinx before trench."running out of doors quite soon."