The Sentinels ghost on the shore

Deirdre was her greatest strength, and yet their reunion had shattered the armor Emaleth had built in her time away— armor against grief, and guilt, and the myriad of other tempestuous emotions within her breast. It had taken some weeks to rebuild, in which the dark youth remained hidden within the Wilds. It was quicker, this time, to plate her heart. She owed that to her littermate, who had come to her on occasion beneath the moon's light, and not for the first time did she regret ever having gone in the first place.

She trembled as she stood here, at the edge of where her life began and her father's had ended. But regardless of what had been done in her time away, this was her home, and she and Deirdre would honor Lasher by ensuring it remained of their— and his— blood.

Ever the singer, the youth's lilting song rose up to echo through the trees; in the beginning, the song was a bit unsure and unsteady, but as the notes fled her the young Mayfair's voice grew stronger until the song was one of conviction. She was home.