Otter Creek trickle down the spine

recognizing that the end of their time had come, mahler returned maegi's bow. "i shall. it vill be good to see you again." the scarred princess and her woods of blackfeather; the shadowpriest was bemused by this haunting juxtaposition to his own sort of logic.
a mentor. he did not remember a time where he had been called such, though perhaps the remaining children of diaspora considered him one. or maybe that was his own mere vanity, mahler chided himself, turning away to seek out his wolves.
for some time the fierce pale royal of the haunting weald remained with him, for what reason he did not know, nor care.