Sawtooth Spire aufgeregt

"you hate those hills so much, vylla," mahler sighed, feignng annoyance. "vone vould think they had personally done you wrong." and while he expected her to lecture him about her common sense, and his apparent lack of it, he awaited the crass lash of her tongue with a boyish glee?
masochist? not at all. but among all the reasons he had for treasuring wylla, her thorough lashings of him ranked high.
perhaps then, he pursued it for his own bemusement. it was the way between them, and he enjoyed it far more than he had any right.