The Sentinels from the other side

The first thing Andromeda knows when she wakes up is that she is lying in a bed of dirt. The dirt is soft - it tickles her nose, caressing her muzzle with the cool life of spring touched by the coldness of winter. She smells the dew-laden grass, the moss-covered roots and stone, the smooth tang of plants starting to flower. She hums, her breath stirring a butterfly that flits off into the unknown, and her cyan eyes track its progress for a good while before she loses sight of it and it is gone.

"Donnelaith"

It is not a question, nor a curiosity. It is a fact and a statement, Ann considering the pack she now belongs to.

"Donnelaith"

It is smooth. It rolls off her tongue, and Ann likes how it sounds.

"Donnelaith"

She does not know what she is.

What she says, the speech she lets out, is all quiet. A mumur to herself, and Andromeda waits and waits for someone to find her.