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

they seemed fearful -- the pale one tripped over herself, and he felt the unease rising palpably from the pair of them. "little emaleth, little deirdre," lasher intoned, at last saving them from their consternation and taking them into his arms, the whimpering pair. though he had no milk to give, he sensed that they now delineated between himself and blue willow. softly he sang to them, of starry nights and the glitter of summer skies, and the deepest forests where the gods dwelt and bid their worshippers approach.