The Sentinels When the tequila runs out

When asked about the source of the blood, Sharkbait thought of those little bodies on the beach. They hadn't been wolves, nor did she know what they were called, but they had struck her as strangely familiar. Unable to answer, she simply shrugged and shook her head as if to say, I don't know. She repeated the action when asked why they'd undergone this ritual. She couldn't hope to understand their ways, despite having evidently grown up in the culture. Somewhere deep inside of her, she suspected she hadn't, although it was a subconscious suspicion and nothing more.

Deirdre pointed out that Skellige and his wolves would come for her if she didn't return. She hadn't thought that far ahead yet but was suddenly pressing against her friend more tightly than ever. "I want to stay with you," she cried out softly. The Leviathan was her father (supposedly) and both he and Amayo had treated her well but it was less about them and much more about Deirdre. Sharkbait could not honestly say she remembered her but now that they'd run into each other, she was extremely reluctant to leave her.

For this reason, she only blinked in reply to Deirdre's next question. Between this inquiry and prior mention of Mordecai's name, it was beginning to sink in that Skellige and Amayo were nothing more than makeshift caretakers, that there was so much more to the story that they weren't telling her. But Deirdre would shed light on all of it, she realized. And of course she would want to go to her mother, whoever she was, but Sharkbait surely wouldn't even recognize her. That thought slithered through the pit of her belly like a dead snake.

"Can—" she began, struggling to find her voice again. She paused, quietly cleared her throat and tried again. "Can we do the spell first? So... I remember...?" the child pleaded, the rush of rain practically drowning out her low voice. Her head and heart pounded in unison in the breathless rush that followed her question.