The Sentinels a voice from down the ages, so in haunting in its song

10 days old, eyes opening! family welcome

each day might have seemed identical to any whom watched deirdre and emaleth, but to the babe not a one was the same. none were so different that they caused her to panic, fortunately... except for the first few moments, but only a brush from any she was used to now was required to quiet her, as well as the consistent contact of her sister. deirdre had not yet accepted that this life was her next one; she lived in the past, in the womb, still, which prevented her mental acceleration and slowed the impending and inevitable Great Forgetting. the cub had been told, someway, somehow, that it would happen... she was not yet ready, she did not yet understand. and all she could do in her neonatal state was ponder it.

but the milk was sinfully sweet, and those that surrounded her were warm and inviting; deirdre was a veritable eve in the garden, so tempted by the lush red apple ripe for the taking. day by day deirdre contented herself with the idea, contented herself and thought: well, maybe.

on the tenth day, as this thought reverberated within her head, her eyes opened. for the first hour she was not even aware of it. all around her were stationary, and her vision was not at all keen to see the hardly perceptible rise-and-fall movement of The Giver, breathing. it was only when The Giver moved to relieve herself that deirdre was aware of The Strangest Something, which was in fact Blue Willow moving. this was something deirdre had become used to, but not like this!

deirdre revealed her horror. for her world had shifted again, and this time she bore witness to it with her own eyes. nothing was distinguishable, everything comparable to something stuck on a contact lens that you could hardly see beyond. but movement could be noted, and she had seen it, and the sound that came from her did not hide her distaste for this disturbance. always more questions! and never an answer!

and so the first stage of The Great Forgetting had begun; for deirdre had been told all of the answers, she had simply lost her connectedness to them in this moment. in accepting even the idea of a future here, she had, knowingly, accepted that she must relearn all things. but she was not stupid with youth yet; she still knew and understood some things. like the anchor beside her, her companion in this journey, for instance. and that this was not the end to all things, simply the end of one.

the creme cub cried for that end, and for her fear of what this could mean—now or later—for her.