The Sentinels where flapping herons wake the drowsy water-rats

Anyone allowed in the den! @Lasher @Blue Willow @Casmir @Eilidh @Deirdre

She had been returned to the safety of the den after her brief tryst with the Otherworld, but it seemed that the chill of that place had not entirely left her. In truth, she had not done much other than sleep or eat— concerning, for the activity and curiosity that had been her strongest traits previously. Over the night, sniffles began to develop in the young babe, snot forming crusted rivers that reached from her tiny nostrils to her lips; even upon her chest. But the sleep kept much else from occurring, and she huddled closely against the warmth of both the Giver and Bringer.

They did their best to keep her from Deirdre, which little Emaleth hardly noticed in her slumber; but Deirdre was often inconsolable over their separation. The little black babe could hear her protests and murmurings, like flashes of dreams— the same with the songs of her father, or the gentle words of her mother. But over the course of this day, it was rare that little Emaleth became very alert.

At least until she awoke herself with a large (for a tiny babe) sneeze; a breathy intake, followed by a high-pitched, rushing squeak. It faded swiftly, replaced with a cantankerous wailing— her head hurt, and her face and chest felt funny, but she did not yet know how to communicate this.