The Sentinels and listened to this voice, like i never heard before

wtf is this

her hooded ears also seemed to twitch, the movement subtle as she cocked her head which moved all the way to the left, and then the right in its tilt. when emaleth joined in with her again, deirdre looked to her encouragingly, spurring her on with giddy nods and giggles, and when her sister howled the cub lifted her head and ooooooooo'd with her for as long as her lungs could take the song that gaily came from her!

deirdre heard her father say emaleth again, but was only watching her sister as she repeated, efffffff! mmmmm-efff- aaaayyyn! she toddled nearer to her sister, as exultant as her father often was when she said deee-aahh!!! first, these words would mean something to them with their supposing, and deirdre tried her hand at conversing this way. what do you think aayynn means? or ff-reeee, her babble was laced, now, with words she had heard and collected as best she could pick it up on the first day, and would come to be that way as they assumed its meaning in the only way they could: relating sound.

if she had to guess snow—no, in their case—she would guess it to be a synonym for The Otherworld itself, because it was a lovely word, and sounded all encompassing. wind—'in' to her, for now—she would call, at first guess, The Bringer (her father), because it sounded like a thing of power. rain—'ayn', as they called it—felt like The Source (her mother); it sounded like something that surrounded, and it had a feel to it that was pleasant and sweet as it echoed from her palate that tasted like the milk given, as she imagined a form for the word. but then, it was more than that, too! for snow was not just one thing. she did not know that all these things had labels. she looked to them and knew them in a place that did not require verbiage. he presented a simpler, efficient thing for them (that she did not yet realize) to house the untamed and ever-growing world that they themselves had known in so many different words—internally, she lived in circumlocution because that was what she knew.

emaleth to her was not a word or a name. her sister was never directly called or referred to by deirdre, because her sister had always known. and emaleth, to deirdre, was boundless and beautiful and good and love and happiness and soft and sweet and energy, her eternal spring and summer, her fountain of youth, her balance, the other side of the world, the sun and the light of day, a part of the circle, the end and the beginning, her yang—and these were words she did not know, but words she felt and called different things, too! that what they spoke was the structure of the things thought in thousands of ways was not something she grasped. she only grasped that she heard it and that it was there and that she could hear differently than she once could, and that she wanted to, also! the mystery made things more appealing, for once, but perhaps it was due to the two shadowy beings she considered as everything guided them through this. no invisible force, no speech of insight (she had forgotten).

she knew their safety, their shelter, and that they gave and would continue to give, and that this was the latest gift they shared; deirdre would not turn away from it, for she so wanted to be a part of them, to understand!