Sawtooth Spire zusammenhalt

for a moment, quellcrist became an aquatic beast. he mulled over the sight in the seconds it took for the yearling to make a catch, blinking impassively as the impact washed along his chest with a wave of water.
"you hunt like you vere born in the river," mahler commented, charcoal ears sweeping forward in silent praise for her kill. until he had truly observed, the gargoyle had only believed it a childish game.
how had wintersbane made such a copy of himself? amusement skimmed the surface of his hard lilac expression. "like a otter."
of course as leadership he had heard the odd rumour, but he had never seen such a notion in action. and mahler thought himself quite logical. there was no malice in his gaze, only a clear honest stare that questioned quellcrist.