Wapun Meadow i have no mother, i have no father, i have no face

 Sif's strange friend does not reply, and after a moment, Poet puzzles out that she must be like Sif. Perhaps even more so, as her clay-furred companion can speak in fragments, at the least. Sif takes the opportunity to offer a name: Venninne (she wonders if Sif came up with that herself or if the mysterious woman had given it at some point before now). 

 She watches Sif and Venninne play, a fond smile on her face. "All friends," Poet agrees, and looks back to the sylph. "I believe they'd like us to join them," the blaspheme says, a slightly mischevious tilt to her lips, curious if their fourth will join in.