The Sentinels kohtalo

“Mo bláth?” Lotte repeated uncertainly, bestirring herself at the málóid banríon’s gentle touch. She summoned a smile for the green-eyed girl, turning to press her lips gently to one pale-furred cheek in affectionate homage. The soot-stockinged rogue was capable of frank honesty despite the many masks she wore — masks that had collected dust from disuse, much to her dismay — and her warm, rich alto fanned forth on the wings of a sigh as she replied, “It is similar to what ails you, noitakuningatar. The Bear — you know him as Lærke — has gone without a word, and my twin is far away.” Deirdre was perhaps uniquely qualified to understand Lotte’s feelings of loss, given her own siblings’ recent departures. Although Lotte had never met Casmir and had no inkling of his existence, she had been vaguely acquainted with Constantine and had seen the looks on Emaleth and Deirdre’s faces when the pale creature had departed the ceremony in silence. “Dagfinn — my twin — cannot winter here among the sequoias with me,” she explained, without going into detail and betraying Dagfinn’s trust in her. “He has responsibilities elsewhere.”

After a mutual sharing of thoughts and feelings the two parted ways.