The Sentinels We get what we deserve

His pace was contemplative as he swept through the tall redwoods – his form moved like a wraith – he did not hold sheer bulk upon him, but his grace matched that of a druid, despite not holding the powers that seemed to be blessed upon the other members of his family.
 
There was much to be considered – but these thoughts were pushed away with his own concern, and Constantine once more pondered the reason he remained. He stayed for his family – they were the sole purpose of his life now.. but often times he wondered if they would be better off without him – as such thoughts of a moody yearling would surface.
 
The scent of another drifted to him. This one was unfamiliar – though not unwelcome, as she bore the scent of Donelaith’s regal. Casting his fiery eyes up, his gaze cautioned over the diminutive form. Pale fur – a creamy white that seemed considerably soft even from the distance he stood from her. She could have been mistaken for Aria, but the Mayfair knew better as his eyes cast upon her darker ones. It was intriguing how the women within Donnelaith were primarily of pale fur and grey eyes. He spoke nothing.. instead, studying her as she seemed to search for someone or something.