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

Emaleth may have blended with the rest of Deirdre's universe, becoming one with the darkness of their home and the coats of their parents— but in contrast, Deirdre had become a beacon among them. Neither could perceive what the other saw, but for both, the other had solidified as everything. She could not make out the details of her sister's form, nor did she realize what she hunted was her ever-present companion. In the moment that she collided with her sibling, their furs intwining, an invisible arm emerged from the darkness to pull them both against its body.

The Source! This she recognized immediately upon touch, as she had recognized her womb-mate. Hungrily, she sought to decipher meaning in the darkness, its quality somehow different from the blindness she had known before. It was overwhelming, this additional sense, and Emaleth needed time to adjust. Her breath was shallow, as if she would lose this sensation were she to breathe— and finally she looked upon the white blur that was Deirdre.

She splayed a paw out, seeking to touch her companion in wonderment. Her sister was something, something separate from the universe! It was mind-boggling, and the dark child— not realizing she, too, was separate, and that she merely blended with her surroundings instead of being an invisible piece of them— struggled to understand. Wonderment apparent in her tone, she told Deirdre, "it has changed again, this world." (and to her father, this would sound something akin to: aadaaa goo eee baaahya.)