The Sentinels in the land of gods and monsters, i was an angel

she had returned from her time with skellige to rest a while beneath the roots of an ancient tree. here, deirdre thought of their conversation. her heart ached for the loss of lasher, still. succession was something that had never occurred to her, and though ambition rest within her she had no desire to fulfill it now. but he had put a thought into her head -- the idea -- and when she slept, she communed with the fair folk and the fae and the creatures of the forest foreign and known.

when she awoke, she removed herself from the earths hold. 'twas not the living, breathing forest she worried on, it was the wolves, her brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles. could they see her in such a role, ever? would they wish to?

the white witch followed the trail of her beloved brother. she was distracted, and wished to be near family. her nape still ached but there was no sign of her assault, and though she looked tired her gait was graceful and her stride was long.