The Sentinels the moonlight it was dancing, on the waves, out on the sea

mom maybe? :) @Blue Willow

deirdre slept soundly and dreamed of her life before this one. by her standards it had been a long one and it was the only memory she was permitted to carry. she was a buoyant thing in this world, tethered to something that kept her there. the dome to her had been shapeless and once, endless. for a long time things remained such and her mind was set. months to the external were years to her internal. she grew older and there was a point where her universe was shifted. something beyond spoke. her companion in this world knew it as much as she did. her curiosity was nonexistent. the nameless entity--at that point--was as good as comatose in her sac. she wanted very much to explore the universe but feared it, too, this great change. it was not that she wished to be ignorant. what had happened was simply an upheaval in her life; like someone who did not believe in anything beyond what they could see and touch hearing some God speaking to them, clear as day.

she knew the calm quiet and the thing beside her. and then the tremors from beyond came. deirdre only tested her boundaries once, a quivering limb reaching out and pressing against a barricade. the push from there was feeble, the one and only time she kicked. deirdre was never willed to do so by any other, but she felt the vibrations grow once she had acted in such a way. the vibrations were never unpleasant, simply strange in their newness. her frequent exposure desensitized her, but even then she did not experiment with the wall that was there. that was horrifying to her, somehow.

it was nice to simply float there, anyway, minding her own. she was warm, she was fed, she was content, and the little deirdre had her constant companion, ever-growing beside her. there were no moments of discomfort she could recall.

so she dreamed of that. dreamed of floating, of that warmth. the vibrations were deeper now, different yet the same. she stirred, suddenly hungry, and a paw flexed slowly, weakly, upon her mothers belly--the barricade?--before she forgot this train of thought for a time (willingly), favoring the milk that soon flowed into her mouth.