Arrow Lake Show no fear, for she may fade away.

Would love a @Mahler thread if you have time?

Though she did not ache as the long-term Diaspora wolves did, Nyx suffered in her own way. She'd made attempt at reaching out to comrades when she hoped to look beyond the hollowness of her chest because, somehow, it helped to see that others might feel as deeply as she could.

The tawny Ostrega made her way in no particularge direction that evening, padded quietly through sparse foliage with her head and tail low. Her nights had been sleepless, filled with grim thoughts triggered by a vivid crimson memory, and exhaustion was clear in the dulled yellow of her eyes.

the woman nyx was the last creature that stigmata had admitted to diaspora, but mahler had no recollection of meeting her personally. sleep had evaded him as well, and he came across her trail purely by accident. yet he took it up all the same, lengthening his stride until he spotted her in the glint of early twilight.
his lilac stare reached for her own firelit gaze; mahler was silent, content to merely exist until she spoke for the both of them, and padded noiselessly at her side in anticipation of that moment.

When Nyx detected the approach of another, she eyed him from the corner of a tired yellow eye. The skin of her shoulders pricked a little, an discomfort to remind her of how little she could trust, though she did not curl her lip in offense at the dark male's proximity. Instead she carried on for a time, silent but very much aware of the tension in her abdomen.

"Hi," the tawny wolfess finally said, her voice small as she gathered enough confidence to lift her gaze and find a pair of dull lavender eyes staring back at her.

"hello," mahler murmured. she too felt graytoned and exhausted. somehow this was a comfort to the general, and he moved at her side with a heart slightly more warm. "you are nyx, ja?" the gargoyle inquired, glancing toward her. aesthetically the ostrega was a pleasant sight; he only wished that he had more appreciation for her than a fleeting look. stigmata consumed his thoughts; surely the woman would understand. "did you know stigmata vell?"

He knew her name, it seemed, and he reached put for confirmation. Nyx dipped her muzzle politely in a nod and then looked ahead as she realised that, despite having briefly seen him around, she'd never cared to discover his own title.

Nyx was a selfish thing by nature, yet gulit nipped at her chest and tightened in her abdomen. The cool-eyed male was kind, she could tell, and she swallowed thickly when he enquired of her relation to their fallen General. "I did not," she answered, "but he gave me a place among you, and I'll be forever grateful."

"he did the same for me," the shadowpriest sighed. "ve hunted these spires together, and the idea of diaspora vas born in his heart. he vas my kill-brother," mahler explained, unsure of why he tossed his words so openly to nyx. "but now i am only mahler." a quick, bitter smile before he refocused on the lovely, wan creature alongside himself. "vhat is it you hope to be vone day, nyx?"

She pressed on and let him speak, hopeful that he might find some comfort in openly recalling his fallen comrade - regardless of how awkward it made her feel.

Nyx lifted her yellow eyes, turned her face toward him when he said something that took her by surprise. A frown tugged at her features, pulling each corner of her mouth downward. "At the end, all we really have is who we are," she shared, rolling a peppered shoulder in a shrug. It had been a harsh lesson for her to learn, when fate ejected her from Grimnismal's ranks, for a time leaving her entirely alone.

His question was something she hadn't anticipated, though she appreciated his consideration for her. "I hope only to survive," Nyx told Mahler honestly, unable to admit that her life's purpose could ever compare to the grandiosity of what Stigmata had yearned to achieve in his. After what she had done, surviving was a luxury.

"i should hope that you vill find more in diaspora than mere survival," mahler rejoined. but it was a sentiment he understood. with stigmata gone, it fell to the gargoyle to sort things, to decide who must be placed and where. in nyx' long body he saw a potential for travel that would benefit his wolves, but her tongue over her own wants was guarded. he must not pry, then. "is there a role you seek in your rank, nyx?" to bring messages, to guard the border, to travel — let them speak now of more direct things.

He hoped she might find more for herself, which was... charming? Nyx, plagued by her mental health and gripped by paranoia, found herself wondering if this was some odd way of sweet-talking her. Perhaps he wished to use her to his advantage, keep her keen by lavishing praise and attention, but the tawny wolfess uttered no response. She didn't have the energy to counter his words, nor did she care to appease him with her own.

Life was blunt. It was cruel and unkind. To survive was all she really had to keep her going.

"I would scout," she told him, content to turn from more personal matters to professional ones, "I like the freedom of the road."

"ve could alvays use a good scout," mahler murmured. the sunspire was vast and unconquerable, but messages could still be carried to and fro. "it has been a while since i truly vandered," he mused aloud, continuing forward. nyx' past was closed to him, and so he would not pry. but diaspora, perhaps, could be an integral part of her future.

Wandering made Nyx feel far more alive than any pack could ever promise. To roam was strong in her Ostrega bloodline, unknown to her, though it was a trait she and most of her littermates had inherited. To think of her time as a dispersal wolf had her casting thought back to the beginning of it all, when she'd stepped willingly into the unknown alongside @Dirge and Saor into what she hoped would be a bright and promising future.

How wrong she'd been to leave Winterheart. How foolish to turn away from her mother and all who loved her in favour of life as a rogue, one that'd been sour for its entirety. It was not the way of the wolf to roam as long as Nyx had, flitting from pack to pack - never truly finding her place in the world.

"I guess being that's the downfall of being the boss," she teased in response to his remark, wondering if he resented his rank of leadership if it meant rarely being able to see beyond Diaspora territory. "What is it that you hope for?"

"strong children. a growing claim to the mountains. springtime," mahler answered, as truthfully as he was able. a pack was the sum of its pups; if litters were not born, numbers did not grow. it made for a demand upon the grown in diaspora, especially this year past, but the gargoyle knew such things could be remedied. 
to see stigmata's vision through would please him, and lastly [mash] the remembered music of springtime.
spirit lifted somewhat, he glanced to nyx with a gentle look, wondering how she might respond.

Fade with your next post?  :)

His desires seemed simple enough: strong offspring, a vast claim, the approach of a warmer season. The tawny she-wolf cocked an ear, amused. She supposed most wolves would wish for such good fortune, whereas Nyx' hope was purely to survive. To be shed of her guilt, to truly forgive herself for past mistakes.

In some ways she thought she had, but returning to the Teekon had affected her in ways she hadn't anticipated. So while Mahler seemed far more content as their conversation progressed, the agouti Ostrega felt her heart sink deeper in her breast. "Then let them be so," Nyx responded with a half-hearted smile and lazy sweep of her tail.

<3

"then let them be so," he repeated, heartened by nyx' buoyant words in the face of all diaspora had suffered thus far. in the next moment, he had fallen into a loping step, inviting the lithe maid to his side for a run to dispel the cloying grief that clung to the stones underfoot.