The Sentinels Too much sauce

deirdre heard his howl, and forewarned her beloved gently, that is skellige--he comes to see if you are well, no doubt. he cares for you, she told larkspur this in a faint murmur, though she was unsure if the sentiment would matter to the other, or if she had no love at all for the titan who had displaced her father. the anxious look in the eye told her what she needed, and deirdre knew that she could not rush the others healing. if larkspur were to ever have any love for skellige herself it would need to come from her true heart, and not forced; at present, the girl feared him too much that there was room for neither love nor hate! but to suffocate her with his presence sooner rather than later would cause her to suffer, cause fear to fade and resentment to grow. deirdre would not allow any hate at all in the others heart if she could help keep it safe from such darkness, so pure and beautiful it was. not toward skellige!

she rose to all fours, hearing him before she saw him. deirdre made an attempt to veil him from larkspur's view, knowing that only if larkspur desired to see him she would--she did not, however, attempt to veil larkspur from skellige, in knowing that he did care for her she would not hide that she had awoken from her comatose state. skellige, she greeted, her ears shifting atop her head. she is still in a sensitive state--we must not overwhelm her with too much, too soon, her eyes held fast to him, it is the doctors orders that she sleep, now, to replenish her body and her head both, she peered back to the girl, for a moment, knowing the memories would continue to come. you see with your own eyes she has awoken, but she is still recovering, and this requires more rest. come away with me, she urged, looking back to skellige, now, and gesturing outside the den, her eyes expressive: please.