The Sentinels all hope in eclipse

Lucani had been catching a few rare moments of rest when an urgent howl went up — and it was almost as if she had been expecting it, though she was not sure why. Requests for aid were common now in Donnelaith and thereabouts, those nightmarish locusts having torn the health from them.

She uncrossed her forelegs and darted for Dante's call, which was joined in turn by a specific request from the now very familiar young voice of Deirdre. Upon the scene, the patient was crowded... people talking, fretting or else being calm and measured. Words thrown here and there, actions considered. She could not see the patient, but it was not her place to barge through or bid make way. So having heard the word "overheated" as she'd arrived, Lucani left swiftly and dipped herself fast into a deep crook of stream until most of her fur was dripping.

Then with equal pace the skinny female returned to the crowd — I have water here, she stated clearly so that they might let her through. She made her bid to press her wet fur against the patient and let drops drip onto their lips, and then the pronoun ambiguity was up. It was a he. A him. She saw him now.

It was Lasher.