The Sentinels And I can't be holding on to what you got

the forests witch drew forth from the edges of the wood, a dazed expression crossing her countenance. the summons of osprey had beckoned to her heart, and she followed it thusly; and there, near the shores, were her loved ones. a smile bloomed across her visage, and the girl moved languidly in their direction, greeting each present with a gentle nuzzle if they permitted the contact. she was in time to hear osprey's instruction, and prior greeting her she listened well to the words spoken. only when the woman finished did deirdre draw close to her to profer a kiss to her cheek, if allowed--for deirdre loved osprey quite fiercely, the woman being her second friend ever made. tachyon had been the first--but tachyon had gone. he was present in her heart, but he was another loved ghost that trailed her in the wildwood. i am sorry i am late, she whispered softly, and then moved to greet her brother in just as familiar a manner. to aria, there was a brief, blushing smile. dante she plainly cared for; he had aided her in her youth, and though once he had frightened her deirdre did not recall such a time. he had only ever been kind, and as osprey loved him so too did she. deirdre moved at length toward renoir, to whom she had made a promise. perhaps soon they would take their journey. 

it doesn't smell so terribly, does it? she began, by way of forging conversation with the frenchman. she wondered how he was; she had avoided so much of her heart that reminded her of her father, and his accented tones had caused her to think on lasher. and yet she longed to hear them now! and felt her ears lean toward him, and her eyes behold the lovely blond renoir.