The Sentinels the world moves on without a sound

the babe was no actress, and was woebegone as his tongue brushed against her, but froze at the touch too. only the tightening of her lids betrayed that she truly detested the contact that might have otherwise made her laugh then run off even still... but to flee from the touch then seemed quite a dangerous thing to do. the last time she had run, she had been struck; it was that which provoked complacent stillness from her. he asked her why as his touch moved toward her pale crown, and she mumbled most unhelpfully a low, tired, anxious, dont know, in the breath that answered him. one eye opened to look at him for a moment before she supplied him with, can't sleeps. she seemed to coil into herself so he would have no access at further testing her limits, but even should he deirdre knew she would not run away. i a-feared she whispered meekly at last, mispronouncing and even confusing the words in her addled mind.