The Sentinels and never mind how high the cost may grow

the growing girl looked to the path ahead, intuitive to her fathers movements and easily following his lead in quiet. her soul knew what the night would bring, and it veritably sang in its thirst for it. in time, they had arrived; a dark circle that stained the earth, and yet 'twas not filled with the darkness the locusts had wrought in their Great Devouring. she looked to him, puzzled. you know? deirdre asked, and when he gestured toward the stones he had plucked, she turned to them.

heeding his instruction, she did as was asked. she had been taught of the four winds for hunting, and though she was no apt huntress herself—too young yet to boast of such accomplishments—she knew of these winds, and perhaps might have known anyway, for they each sang a different aria to her as they came! she was ginger and delicate as she placed each stone down: north, east, south, and west. lastly, she placed a pebble down at its core, and looked to him from this place, feeling strange and euphoric.