The Sentinels baby i... i wanna know, what you think, when you're alone

Aria lets out a brief laugh, her lips curved in a small smile. "Am I that readable, Deirdre?" she asks the child, not expecting a response. She dips her muzzle and nudges the girls shoulder gently with affection. "You're quite the face reader-- regardless," she says quietly, partially avoiding the question. By now, Deirdre is half a year old and much more mature than most wolves her own age. Perhaps, it would be okay to tell her...

Aria cannot speak for Emaleth, but she is quite fond of the white Mayfair child-- she reminds her of herself. As she stares at the pale witch, she studies her bright eyes before finally letting out a long breath and looking away into the woods for a moment. "When you were still a tiny pup-- still nursing and crawling-- your brother and I were in love," she tells her slowly, her lips twitching into a small smile. She glances to Deirdre to see a reaction before she continues.