Bramblepoint königinklinge

he found the trail of quail in their covey; he would have flushed them from the spruce had not the peppered scent of hydra wreathed proudly.
commandingly, he mused, compelled to abandon his hunt at once and present himself for the scrutiny of her cool gaze.
"queen."
mahler paced proudly toward her, aware of his imposing height despite the withering of a hard winter. when last they met, he had been within her land; now they came upon chance as equals.
but the weald was perhaps the hunting extension of moonspear, and mahler would heed the unspoken.
lavender stare glowed with a pale amusement as the gargoyle awaited hydra's word.