Noctisardor Bypass entlaufen

something grave and final had snapped inside mahler.
for the first time in a long while he stared down at a darkened spot of blood between his paws, coughed up from lungs strained with the effort of holding his anguish at bay.
@Wylla would wish to tell him again of his selfishness, and she was correct. and in the end he had known it.
"bring phaedra."
mahler stared through the archway of rivenwood and stepped out into blowing snow. "i am not staying."
something had torn within him; the juncture of pain and failure cracking the marrow of his heartbeat.
something dire and haunted and whether or not wylla walked now with him, mahler meant to depart rivenwood with finality.

For once, Mahler's selfishness included her.

For once, he placed his family above his duty.

There was some measure of regret in Wylla for what it had taken to get to this point. She didn't like abandoning those kids to Ursus, no matter what anyone might think. But Mahler spoke truly: they had fought and they had lost, but were lucky enough to come out alive. If they fought again, there was no guarantee they would not die for it, and Wylla could not bear losing Mahler now, not like that. Not for someone who had brought conflict to his paradise and torn it from him.

Still she blamed Laurel for everything. Her fury that Sequoia had not shown her face in the fight was set aside. There would have been no fight if not for whatever Laurel had done. For once, Wylla saw that it was not Mahler who was the selfish one, but those around him who influenced his decisions.

She hoped those children would be okay, but had the uncharitable thought that perhaps they were better off. Ursus would not have made the effort to drag them away if they meant to kill them. Likely, Laurel could get them out if she traded her life for theirs. It was probably the only way. If she would not do that then there was no helping it.

Wylla had ever been dedicated to family and that was no different now. Laurel, her children, Sequoia, they all meant nothing to her. What she cared about was Mahler, Thade, Phaedra, the children she carried now. She would miss Druid... but maybe they would meet again someday. With a quiet sigh and a drawn look as she spotted the blood in the snow, Wylla lifted her muzzle and called for their ethereal daughter. She would hear and follow in her own time, as had been her way the last year or so.

This is the right thing, she said quietly, hastening after to follow at his flank. There was no question; Wylla went where he went.

mahler did not dare to look back.
the cold wind would freeze silent streams of saltwater along his cheeks.
it was the apex of finality. a finished betrayal. 
he could not bear their scorn. he could not bear their hatred. he could not bear his own weakness.
he did not reach for wylla.
mahler set their course for a wide berth away from the taiga and the valley, heavy, wearied steps moving inexorably toward the last place that they had truly been whole: the sunspire.
eventually he fell back with phaedra, allowing wylla to take the lead with no more than a silent glance.
mahler would go where she led.
he no longer wished to be looked to for leadership.
in truth he no longer wished to be observed at all.
it was the truth of their future that had taken him from rivenwood.
the snow howled. he breathed.

Mahler said nothing. That was somehow worse than if he had chosen that moment to blame her for everything.

She set her jaw and followed him from the bypass, shedding all thought of Laurel, Sequoia and Ursus at the threshold. What use was there thinking of them or what they might think? If not for them — for Laurel provoking Ursus somehow, for Sequoia hiding like a little bitch — none of this might have happened. If they wanted to blame someone for the dissolution of Rivenwood then they could blame themselves. Wylla had no regrets, only relief that Mahler had not chosen to risk his neck.

When he fell back with Phaedra, Wylla led the way to the mountains. She knew better than to try to speak to him now. He was not happy to be leaving — this was a relief for her, but no doubt he was being eaten up by guilt. It was not his to bear, but no sense trying to reason with him now. She led on into the snow, and like her mate, did not look back.