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

she need not even ask what was before her to know it in her own way. this, around her, was the thing that spoke to her. energies that had experienced this an innumerable amount of times surrounded them, buzzing instruction and guidance and telling her what she saw in a plethora of different ways. deirdre squinted against the snow she looked to, the light searing; and as she turned her head she turned to her favored shade. deirdre did not know this was emaleth until a sound came from her, familiar and known. deirdre did not know that the thing beside her was the thing she had loved so much, the one she had spoken to for all of her days here. deirdre only looked on to her sister, her edges nonexistent; not a thing around her had a limit, it seemed they were all one big great thing. her sisters darkness meshed with the darkness around them. there was no difference her terrible vision could see between it; her sister was the world, as was the one who comforted her. that she looked any different did not occur to her. for now the only thing she could do was watch, and judge things by the way her sister responded.