The Sentinels in the darkening of the year

@Lærkee @Eilidh @Winchester — Please make sure to join this round. <3
@Lotte — We're aware of your absence, I'll assume that Lotte joined on time in this post.
@Starbuck — We're aware that IC events will keep you from joining the ritual. :)

Next round will be posted on November 5, or when everyone has responded. For the sake of timing, there is no post order.

Deirdre joined the space at her side, as Emaleth knew she would, and the pair waited for their wolves to join as silence fell over the forest once more. Her heart thrummed nervously in her chest, suddenly paralyzed by fear that none would answer her call— she was not queen, nor was she particularly close to their followers— but the first arrived, and then the second, and for a brief moment she relaxed. When more minutes passed, and no more came or sang of their intent to join the group, her mismatched eyes glanced at Deirdre in uncertainty. Should she continue, or should she wait a few breaths more...? When a fourth— Lotte— joined in silence, the dark witch was decided.

"It is Samhain night," she began, "a time to honor our dead and usher in a blessed new year." This was Deirdre's blood, her blood, the teachings of Donnelaith's patriarchy, their father. It had always been present in them, and they would hold tightly to it even with the influx of new blood. She would not demand they believe, but she would demand that they respect the past and the pack's origins. "The gifts you have brought are in remembrance of those we have lost; fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, lovers and friends. You honor their memory, and on their behalf, I thank you. Hear these words, and remember those you have loved and lost. Feel their breath in the wind, their voice in the whisper of leaves, their heartbeat in yours." She was not an orator, like her father or Deirdre— but she knew song, and after allowing a moment for those before her to consider those words, she began to sing.

"Spirits of my fathers and mothers, I call to you,
and welcome you to join me for this night.
You watch over me always,
protecting and guiding me,
and tonight I thank you.
Your blood runs in my veins,
your spirit is in my heart,
your memories are in my soul.

With the gift of remembrance.
I remember all of you.
You are dead but never forgotten,
and you live on within me,
and within those who are yet to come."

When the last note fell from her lips, she fell silent for a moment once more. She was young, and she had never led a ritual before— especially not before those that were not raised as she had been. Her nerves would be clear, but still she pressed on, for who could deny the importance of remembering one's past? "If you are comfortable doing so," she invited quietly, "please share the names of those you remember tonight, and perhaps some words so that we might know them, too." There was only one name on Emaleth's heart, and she knew that Deirdre would share it— and so she fell to silence, allowing space for others to speak up.