Mudminnow River can't hear you now

her face remained relatively impassive, albeit studying, as eilidh offered a sad smile and recounted memories of her early life. caiaphas thought she could detect the sharp pang of nostalgia then; so this woman was displaced - understandable, as donnelaith had been in ruins and caiaphas had witnessed the flame-licked carnage herself.

her stoicism melted at the mention of lasher; a look of pain crossed her features then, deep and fleeting and instantly and violently vanquished like the annoying presence of a gnat. she noted, specifically, the tense eilidh used -- is -- not was, but is.

the sylph's fierce yellow gaze looked away for a moment as if glancing upon elilidh was suddenly untenable. freshly composed, she looked back to lasher's daughter with the closest thing to sympathy the cold, hard, bitch was capable of mustering. "i knew him; and your sister, deirdre, was lost once on the beach. i brought her home. do you know your father is dead?"