The Sentinels the breeze it wrapped around me, as I stood there on the shore

another all welcome! anyone @Lasher would enable near. powerplay consent of @Lasher given!

for two whole days, deirdre refused to yield to any when it came to the matter of the The Place From Where the Light Came. she revolted with panicked whimpers that would break your heart (if you had one), and was never forced. if ever her sister went, deirdre trailed along until the last moment, when she would break away and stare from the inside, shoulders rolled and spine lifted to create a hunch in her back so she might look like the veritable being that tolled the bell from the cathedral of notre dame. and so like the phantom, she only revealed half of her face from time to time, and then shrank back into the darkness to watch from there. the light was warm and inviting, but the wind was biting and the earth was frozen in a colorless white. her family colored the landscape, but she never took the time to observe much more than that. she would listen to the sounds they made and be content with that, while distracting herself on the safe, warm, familiar inside. if emaleth was gone for too long, deirdre might fall into a fit; but she never was, as though she knew.

this place was her newest womb. outside was foreign and unfamiliar. from within, deirdre discovered every thing one could discover. like, the mark her body left on the place she slept. and that her tiny nails could create indents in the earth. that in particular she marveled at, and created her own puppy-printed art. scribbles of claws marked the interior den floor, and there deirdre drew all she knew. her sister could recognize it all, but to anyone else it would surely be unintelligible. she and her sister shared the language of nonsense, and they fluently shared it together. no one but they two could comprehend it, try though they might to speak to The Giver and The Bringer.

on this day, however, deirdre had drawn all she knew. her soft blue eyes beheld it proudly, and she yipped to her mother and father. emaleth at present napped, and her father looked to her for a long moment. a shaft of light broke through the mouth of their home as the hour shifted, and deirdre's gaze lingered upon the heavenly ray. too long, it seemed. for her father mistook it as interest and moved toward that rather than her, and deirdre protested and whined, no, would you come here! he responded, but as he could not understand her babbling, she could not understand—or pick up on—a single thing. he wouldn't listen to her, and deirdre toddled clumsily toward him, so that she could use these lovely milk teeth to pull him to her like she could pull the other things they brought. deirdre was unaware that this might hurt him (never would she desire to do that), and as she approached she appealed to his better judgment. i made something for you, and for everyone, would you come see? came her babbling nonsense. but The Bringers eyes swept toward where the light came, and her own eyes could not help but follow.

that was not strange to her. what was strange was the light and the way it shifted as the clouds moved overhead. it was like a dance, and it moved in a peculiar pattern over the snow. deirdre was lured, drawing nearer to the exit—a single paw went over the threshold! lowered, to touch the white earth!—

but it withdrew sharply:

nope.

deirdre clutched this arm to her breast and whimpered, her face utterly scandalized as she looked at the snow. the old wise druid perhaps in her heart was gone for a moment in favor of the horror she truly felt: how dare! before the face melted into a vision of perfect sadness. why? why would you do this to me? i haven't hurt you!

but... but... the mark she had left! she looked at her father, uttering a disconcerted yet wonderfilled question: i... i did this thing? ... before looking back at the shape.

deirdre, the powerful witch, felt a little bit stronger for her 'magic', then.