Otatso Wetlands Break free and leave us in ruins

monty python running gif

mahler might have noticed the presence of the pale figure in the distance were it not for the way that wylla bent herself away from the first male. it was the way of things. teeth and then pursuit. test for deference. an ageless sort of courtship, and the type that had defined their kind who came to walk the ancient land beneath them.
stronger strengthened the tendril that drew mahler across the snow-choked plains, warming his lips and spreading something rose-hued and delicate inside his head. he felt almost as he had the first year of arrival in this place, with the bypass rising behind him. and it reared again, the land he had taken and given to his wolves as an offering —
but the testament of wylla had lured him many days' hence; he accounted to no man. and perhaps that was the sum of it, the old pride of being lone head to those who followed. not so now;
now his flesh sparkled with electricity, and he felt a vital youth course him.
he saw the silverbow of wylla and the way the man sought her with assured steps.
not so far off, and yet too far to know more than that it was her, the gargoyle snorted bullishly and pressed on, for he did not appreciate the air of the first; that notion secondary to the fact that he did not appreciate the existence of the contender.
in the end she would choose and it would not be him, for he had squandered this a thousand times over; mahler did not yet know that this man had been the first to fall in legion. his steps were heavy, lavender eyes fixed hard upon the pair.