The Sentinels but i know that i'm damned

Her blunt claws pulled through the dirt as she excavated a place to slumber; though Deirdre had invited her to share in her den, the dark witch wanted a hovel of her own. She loved her sister with her entire soul and being, but there were some things she wished to keep private from even her— she would not tarnish Deirdre's golden light, but would protect her from the darkness.

Emaleth had chosen a place near the territory's heart for her den, instead of its edges like she might have chosen mere months ago— it had become clear to the youth the she was Donnelaith, much like Deirdre was, and she would no longer shy from it. Its main cavern used the shelter of a sequoia's tall root base, and she would fill the small indent with fallen grasses and flowers and leaves to sleep upon. Already complete was a smaller cavern off to the side, its entrance cleverly hidden behind a strong root. She would need it to store the herbs and talismans her magicks might require.

When she felt satisfied, the dark witch backpedalled to admire her handiwork. Feeling like something was missing, Emaleth drew near the entrance and began to drag her teeth in rough lines across the sequoia's bark to create a rudimentary pattern.