Sawtooth Spire i love only that which they defend

as they moved, mahler's mind once more turned to the eternal inventory of sagtannet, its remaining children, its quiet inhabitants. wylla. 
he would have dipped toward mournful contemplation had not praimfaya revealed her intentions, a rush of breath carrying her words forth.
the eisen's countenance grew increasingly more dour as the girl spoke; he turned his hard stoneflower gaze upon the young warrior. had praimfaya not reported an attack by them? wounds? 
"the canyon is scarcely a day from sagtannet," mahler growled. "vhatever duty you believe you have, your loyalty belongs first to this pack." the reticence of the sawtooth wolves, coupled with their lessened ability to protect themselves led his tongue to this path.
mahler had traveled the mountains long before praimfaya had been born. the hardened yearling beside him, he realized, had ambitions that he found untenable. but that was the way of youth, and in the end, each would do what compelled them.
"i think it is a foolish thought, praimfaya. our proximity to these dangerous individuals means that vone misstep is to invite their teeth upon our head. upon those of the pups."
the man inhaled, dark plume switching at his heels. having stopped to address the innate danger of the actions the younger wolf planned to take, he pressed his paws into the good earth of sagtannet now.
"i forbid it." had he ever given such an order? he did not believe so, and it pained him in a way he did not understand. but no war would move him; mahler felt his ties to the mountain, their depth. this war was not his own, and therefore, was not praimfaya's to fight either, though youth made for headstrong tactics.