The Sentinels rise up singin'

deirdre sang and sang, the action rather thoughtless and more responsive to her sisters own noise but far from mundane. she could not grow bored of this, she felt—why, she could do this forever! and she might have, for she thought much the same way as her sister, that this was something that could become a part of her. it truly did link with her soul; it found its place and rooted itself in the depths of her heart. but a shadow came, and deirdre felt her song die in her throat, the note becoming what she felt must be an infinite fermata there. the little witch swallowed it down and looked shyly to the one who entered.

it did not take too long for her to recognize the fine face of eilidh, and her tail waved. deirdre liked all who were permitted entrance, but experienced stage-fright and so remained quiet. emaleth was ecstatic, and the pale cub would do nothing to steal from her the spotlight, or even share it with her. could not, even if she desired to! it seemed her sister was unaffected by this feeling of foreboding, and deirdre looked to her, confounded by that.