Sawtooth Spire zweiter teil

a month had passed, and mahler had not forgotten.
he had reemerged from his forested cocoon with the cough still in tow but with no other maladies that would indicate he carried contagion forward. beneath the elixirs created by speedy and his own fervent medicines, mahler finally found the reins and was able to control its occurrence more easily now. it was not an apt time to leave rivenwood, and if any but @Praimfaya were at the helm, he might have found himself stayed.
but she was a warrior in her own right, a skilled general who had not misfooted any truly important thing. a test, then; he would go and come back, and he knew rivenwood would fare well in her care. with a note to the young graf that he was leaving with @Phaedra upon a small journey, the gargoyle waited at the bottomslopes of noctisardor for his girl and they set off.
through the green grove where he had once met wylla, where she had begged of him —! — beyond a glade that reeked of foxes and a meadow staunchly painted with ursus' musky scent. this irritated mahler, who turned to look at the dismal valley as they passed.
but soon the sunspire was springing up before them against the springblue sky. he led her into a sprawl of forest, only coughing occasionally; he watched as phaedra traveled behind or before or beside, their path taking a decidedly upward trajectory and their trail growing rocky and high, bordered by a sparse broken threading of mountainpine and alder. 
goats dashed away from the wolven pair, but mahler had no eyes for them — there, there, the sharp-bordered tall peak, severe and lovely and welcoming in icewrapped serenity.
up and up, until they had come to windholme, and mahler glanced to phaedra for any sign of familiarity.