Nova Peak jämmerlich

whatever humour had been inspired in mahler's heart faded beneath the swift egress of phaedra away from him. tortoise-stunned into a lack of reaction, wide lilac eyes swept after her as his daughter's eager strides carried her toward the moose.
her name, rising and guttering to death in a throat that strained, chords slumping beneath the more immediate leap of his own heavy limbs, to connect and crush against the ruminant if the king was enraged by the subject's descent.
nothing; heart thudding dull in chest, battering ribcage with frantic wingbeats. mahler came to trot alongside phaedra, prickling at the end of each pelt-hair. the beast had turned; it had loped away, and he tore his eyes from its siltwater pelt to his moonbeam girl-child.
"wir lassen ihn in ruhe, ja?" papa suggested in a tone that was not quite a suggestion, broad steps carrying him across phaedra's path. "ich glaube nicht, dass er es genießen würde, in sein bett verfolgt zu werden."