The Sentinels rise up singin'

*annoyingly hoards all your threads but calls to @Eilidh too*

deirdre mayfair had heard a sound that compelled her to join it. and so every time the wind howled from thereon, deirdre would join its song. in comparison to its ballad, hers was a simple and sweet ditty, quite breathy and broken for the lack of oxygen her tiny lungs could hold in comparison. the character of her own singing voice was as of yet undefinable, as truly it varied as she warbled. in one moment it was low and thick, like velvet fog, though the next it would be high and saccharine; for the most part, it was mellifluous, but their childish lilt would not compel the listening ear to mull over the sound. there seemed promise of that in the future; a voice so sweet and melodious it could be soporific! and yet, who could desire sleep when one could listen on? she had been told this.

but the instant her sister sang, deirdre had forgotten; her own Forgetting had begun, and she was slowly but surely exposing herself to it. there were parts of her that wanted to wait, but the biggest piece of her demanded that she join voices with her sister: it was her heart.

a strange, pure, unearthly note came to fruition as their voices meshed for the first time. the strength she felt in it was astounding and something deirdre knew was shared with emaleth. it lasted all of five long seconds, though their transcendent creation lingered when deirdre paused to catch her breath. her tail innocently waved; she had known what this would do, had been told, but had forgotten the reasons, the meaning; all that, she had given up so that she could sing. deirdre would relearn, but her pleasure in singing prevailed over her desire, and she lifted her head and let out a breathy woo-woo-wooooo! again, though none created the same thing her very first song had.

all that she knew was that it could be done; already, she had forgotten how.