The Sentinels it's too late to rupaulogize

Shit. He found her. Eilidh turned her gaze upon him, cold emerald eyes staring daggers into him. His ear wilted, and he whined softly as he came toward her, doing a terrible job at apologizing. She stood ankle-deep in freshly dug earth, bits of the loam caught in her golden fur, as she watched her brother approach. When he got close enough, she recoiled with a growl, warning him to keep his distance. She'd hear him out, but if he thought he could come cuddling up to her, he had another thing coming.

You're sorry? For what, exactly? She eyed him, standing firmly in the earth that granted her such knowledge and power, and waited for his explanation. Was he sorry for calling her stupid? For cussing at her? Or for assuming that his life was so important that every young lady, including his sister, should be so absorbed by him that the rest of the world fell away? Eilidh waited silently, watching him with her cold eyes, ears held forward on her skull.