The Sentinels Be your own light, they said, but he needed others to help him illuminate the dark.

whereas aria felt alone, deirdre felt whole and happy within the depths of donnelaith. the young forest nymph was coming into herself, looking less like a cub by the day. her stature was entering its awkward stages now, but even so deirdre blossomed in such a way that there was nothing awkward to her. the youth was terribly lovely, and only seemed to be growing lovelier; she was the princess of any evil step mothers envy, but there was no wickedness in her life, only good. wednesday's impression had proven not everlasting, though she regarded new faces with speculation instead of childish adoration and immediate acceptance. such was the case now, when the young babe moved through the forest to collect rabbit tails and four-leaf clovers and instead happened upon the pale beta and a wolf new to their ranks. she regarded aria with a familiar wave of her tail, knowing now that the woman was no stranger at all but a long-standing member of the forest. still young and not yet privy to the nuances of hierarchy (at her age, she was permitted even to eat alongside her father and mother first at any meal) she did not bend her head, the action not even a thought occurring to her in her head.

the other was more pretty than handsome, and deirdre openly admired them. but she kept to the background, a quiet and interested observer. this was a stranger to her, after all, and while she knew he was now of donnelaith—the forest had whispered it to its youngest witch—deirdre could not help but be wary.