The Sentinels yuletide wine

he watched fondly as his graceful daughter approached, and was pleased and surprised by the vaguely mystical gift that the child brought to the borders. however, his murkwater eyes were torn from the pale girl by the barreling form of his lanky son; lasher laughed aloud, bracing himself in the drifts to rough-house casmir with a good-natured bevy of growls and barks rising from the both of them. presently they drew apart; the druid nipped his grown son's nape before turning to the gathered wolves. "in my home of donnelaith, where i was born, we decorated our borders to welcome the snows, and then again when spring was to arrive. thank you all for joining me in such diversion. i thought it an amusing way to christen our new home."

lasher glanced to each member of his family -- for that is what they were -- in turn, proffering a warm smile of affection and gratitude, before he began to arrange fallen berries in the snow along the border, positioning them with nudges of paw and muzzle.