The Sentinels You told me that you left it all behind

deirdre moved to return to the sacred place she had left the wolf she had named for the sun with water spilling from the edges of the broken, halved coconut shell she kept for moments such as these. daily she filled it with fresh water from donnelaiths springs, but it remained ever untouched. while the dark man slept deirdre removed from him old leaves from deciduous forests. she had collected plenty of the colourful things that would fertilize the earth to use as something to keep the wounds covered while he slept. daily she replaced them, and let the wounds breathe, and cleaned from them the pus that came through. so doting was she to these injuries that no hint of infection ever came, and for this deirdre was relieved. it helped, too, that he did not move and open the wounds. perhaps he would awaken fully healed; deirdre was uncertain, still, on how long the mind took to heal... but knew that it was not for her to rush.

a rustling ahead alerted her to movement, and deirdre did not so much as pause as she headed to where the man rest. only when she arrived to where she kept him did deirdre place the makeshift bowl down, and hummed into the den a tentative: ghian? but she heard the shift in his breathing, and her heart fluttered excitedly in her chest--the man had awakened!