The Sentinels moving in reverse with no way out

indie... it seemed fitting. though, she knew nothing of music or performance, and so neither indie nor her own name signaled any sort of meaning. they were merely names, and indie seemed to fit the inky woman before her. aria returned the fae's dramatic bow with a gentle dip of her head, for she had no reason to add such a flare to any of her actions. the other woman then sat, and aria waited patiently for her to situate before she did continued.

it had been moons since anyone had called her beautiful. the last to do it was deirdre, and then lasher, and then casmir-- and before that a good number. but since deirdre's reign especially she had grown disheveled and wary, and she herself had hardly thought of herself as so. her gaze trailed to her shoulder, scarred from ferahgo, and she viewed it silently before she made any further comment. she didn't respond about the forest or herself, however, she spoke only about the mayfairs.

"witches," she shared, giving a small roll of her shoulders, "taltos' youngest, especially, deirdre and emaleth. but the family was a clan of witches as far back in the generations as i'd heard of." for a few moments, she paused to see indie's response before slowly tacking on, "they had a way with magicks that i never understood... but there was only one time that i truly felt the magic myself." she let herself stop, waiting if the other had any questions. and, in truth, it seemed that indie had a flare for the dramatic, and aria could deliver that with a few purposeful pauses.