Sleepy Fox Hollow the cat keeps kicking me in his sleep

wary of his recent choices, made melancholy by the potential of destruction he had engendered for diaspora, mahler wandered. he skulked the edges of the hollow once more, drunken upon her scent.
in another world, wylla would have been set upon by takiyok most viciously, and he himself would have been escorted out of the female realm, not to interfere.
but this was not the natural world, it was one he had created with his own sweat and determination and greed, yes, selfishness and ambition.
was he then so unlike stigmata?
silent, despondent, mahler picked up the trail of the man who had accompanied maegi and followed it to a stone hall, in which the fetid air hung stale and dark with the odor of rot lacing through. "vhat have you found?" mahler inquired grimly, calling to the younger wolf with a quiet calm.