The Sentinels backstreet boys

deirdre was within the warm den, snoozing halfheartedly but wrapped wholly around emaleth in the process. or perhaps emaleth was wrapped wholly around her. deirdre was never sure how it happened, but it always seemed to, and she never minded. they alternated in the positions they slept but for the most part, emaleth was the shell of them, stoic and sure. there were times deirdre assumed the role, but those times were rare indeed; deirdre had a good, sweet, kind heart but it was far from courageous. 

every fiber of her was awakened the moment she heard something quite unlike the other things she had heard. if there was a degree of familiarity in it, deirdre disassembled that fraction of it and had worried herself into forgetting. the pale girl was not sure if she was crawling anxiously under or protectively over emaleth at this point, only that her twin surrounded her entirely though they were one. the protective sound of a loved one was not translated for what it was worth, and deirdre anxiously pressed into her elder sister. she quailed at the thought of something new, and held fast to emaleth. she did not yet see his gift, nor did she see him either; deirdre could only catch the dim outline, but knew this one was not one familiar, if only because there was a new ceremony here, a difference when he came to the threshold.