The Sentinels i like gypsy moths and radio talk

last post from me unless another is necessary!

deirdre would never tell her sister to do a thing, as emaleth would not to her, unless it was of the utmost importance to either of them. they had a balanced relationship, and lingered beside one another in a pleasant equilibrium. but the devastation of seeing tachyon wounded had frazzled her mind, and the urgency it provoked in her prompted her to do as she would. was this life or death? she did not know, but the way her heart raced she thought it to be so! emaleth waited no more, and tachyon enabled her to fuss over his wounds. she did so with the gentleness that befitted one her age, and the nervousness that surrounded her. her tongue was soft as it lurked around the raw edges of the wound. she knew nothing of temptations, or of who the 'her' was tachyon spoke of; she was innocent enough to think nothing at all of his interlude away, though she wondered if it was the monster-woman he spoke of for a brief moment. surely not! he would not bring the ogre here to return, this she knew for certain.

she was quiet as she continued to clean his wound, gentle and attentive.