The Sentinels the mordant liquor of tears

She pressed against her brother, loosing a soft whine at his distress; she felt it, too, though she did not understand it. Only bits and pieces of the conversation could she grasp, but the tone of the adults' voices told her everything. Emaleth had only ever known safety and happiness— and everything about this felt wrong. She buried her face into the fur of her brother's arm, as much to comfort herself as it was to comfort him.