The Sentinels enfants jouant a la balle

Emaleth felt the ocean was as much a part of her as the trees of Donnelaith, but she had feared its cold depths and tended to keep a healthy distance. But now, with the damage wrought upon the trees she so loved, the sea was the only thing familiar. Older, too, her fear had begun to dissipate— she knew to keep to the shallows, knew what conditions made a swim safe and what made one fatal. She walked along the shore, picking her way through mounds of the plague, a hollowness in her heart. What was done could not be undone, and her lack of punishment was worse than if she had received one; so little Emaleth punished herself with a self-imposed isolation, with an internal dialogue that she hoped would prevent her from making mistakes in the future.