The Sentinels new worlds built from ashes

the thoughts, however brief they had been, cast their spell--the song of her brother came through the trees, and deirdre was still for but a moment before she drifted in his direction, swift and eager both. when she came upon him, deirdre did not wait before she attempted to throw herself upon him in an onslaught of sisterly affection. though he had left, deirdre did not love him any less; at least he had told her! eilidh and casmir both had gone without warning, and although it was perhaps inevitable that eilidh would leave donnelaith in her wounded state deirdre would never have thought she would do so without a word! but the most crushing blow of them all had been emaleths silent departure. she knew it was emaleths way, but it did not hurt her any less!

it mattered not. no mayfair root had taken so deep as her own in this forest. deirdre, like her father, would die here before she left this place. 

she pulled away from him, smiling warmly despite the weathers chill. winter was indeed coming; she would weather through it with the pack she had been entrusted with, though she was not naive nor fearless. deirdre was young, she knew. but donnelaith had the aid of teaghlaigh and the depths, and so she knew they would not be alone. 

emaleth and eilidh have gone, deirdre breathed to him, her voice pained by the admission, i do not know where they went--they departed without saying goodbye to me,  he had called for them all, she thought; deirdre was the only sister left, here. she hoped that this would be the end of the sad notes to share, though wondered if constantine had any news that would hurt to hear. she could not imagine anything being so terrible as the words she had spoken, but no longer was she oblivious to the world and the way it could, rather unexpectedly, bring discomfort or pain. she was not changed by it; deirdre loved, openly, freely, devotedly, and trusted easily even so.