The Sentinels In this burning house

Voices rose where the footfalls went quiet. They were faint and wispy, as though they were locked tight behind the foggy vale. He did not recognize them, but Larkspur instantly burst into excited whispers at his side. It was an infectious sort of feeling no doubt, and he could not avoid the ghost of a smile that crept across his face as her courage summoned itself up to call out to her.

His solitary gaze wandered the dark wood before them and he too waited, wondering just where the flash of white against the darkness would be. And more importantly, what would accompany it to where they stood in wait.