The Sentinels Bluesy Backround

it was a morose, perverse sort of thinking that lasher entertained now in his spare moments; he thought of blue willow, of aria, of caiaphas, of peregrine, ayishik, luke, eismitte, dante, siku, julian -- all the wolves he had lain with in the throes of love, those whom he wished dearly for, those he had once wanted -- they came unto him in dreams, melding into the thoroughly androgynous and breathless form of a wolf who wrung kisses from his mouth but left him to gasp awake alone.

it wounded him in ways he could not understand, nor could he see -- taltos slipped restlessly from blue willow's side into the night, kissing her dark cheek tenderly before he loped in the direction of the borders.

a man of midnight stood forth, confidence rising from him -- the druid drew closer and gathered himself high with a proud arch of his plume. he said nothing -- he waited for proper deference to be shown, an explanation to be given.