The Sentinels enfants jouant a la balle

Both ears and eyes perked at the rhythmic language he spoke. It was one that Emaleth had learned alongside Deirdre, though she still knew it as a fancier way of speaking rather than something few— especially in the Wilds— could understand. She spoke it almost as easily as she did the common and ancient tongues, though not with the rapid eloquence of the male before her, and she struggled to comprehend it as quickly as he spoke. Still, she gathered the underlying theme, and for a moment more she only stood awkwardly. He did not compliment her in the same way that her family did; or he did, but it felt different, and young Emaleth could not quite grasp the meaning behind that distinction.

"Mwen se yon pitit fi Lasher," she repeated in agreement. "Kiyes ou ye?" Her cadence was well-rehearsed but yet unnatural.