Sawtooth Spire aufgeregt

mahler chuckled, unable to keep himself so aloof during wylla's intriguing reactions. "ach, my heart," he shot back dryly, though he was not without his great amusement. and passing his gaze to the woman even sardonically afforded him another surreptitious glance along her flanks, though he would tell himself it was only for the children that he looked.
wylla, he knew, would file that delectable little tidbit away for another time. he only hoped it was not during the distant possibility of another embrace, though he wisely kept that to himself.
"sawtooth," the eisen responded. "for those foothills you hate so much." the jagged teeth protected the mountain; mahler had yet to regret their choice.