The Sentinels our battles they may find us, no choice may ours to be

deirdre did not intentionally avoid his fangs; it was he that avoided her that made her tactics not at all evasive. the cub did not know teeth could bring pain, not even her own, and so she would soon be ruthless in her pursuit of him! jaw pressure was nothing to fear, but her pinching milk-teeth were at best unpleasant and at worst a true sting of pain. she also was would be slow to detach herself, bumbling as she was at this age, but she would learn through others—in moments like these—right and wrong, and what to run away from. today she would retain nothing; she was too young to recall anything, and only when she was a month would The New Remembering begin. at present she did not rush at him, however; she was only interested in continuing to grab what she could not, and repeating him.

even as he offered his throat for her to bite, it was used only as a leverage to hoist her upward. but her muscles were far too weak, and the plump youth only fell onto her rear end. there was not even a moment to gather her bearings; his great paw caused her to tilt downward and fall, now, on her side. a raucous cry came from her, and she looked at him with large side eyes. i don't like that, deirdre informed him in her babble, unable to withhold a confused tear. the pale witch did not yet have the instinct even to play fight yet, only to mimic behavior that intrigued her.