The Sentinels τέλος

their gaze traces their guardian's movements adoringly, thick silver-and-ink plume swaying as hephaestus scans the ground. time slows into thick honey falling between towering scorched trees, distorting even the rumble of the waves to the wolfdog's ears as their focus centers on him. the air buzzes heavily, pins and needles prickling their skin, and they shift almost imperceptibly. joy brightens their champagne eyes as hephaestus pauses, ears perking to full height. a flash of alabaster under the fading sunlight catches their gaze. a seashell, ridged and wide, lightly dusted in ash and dirt. the wolfdog's lips curve, hinting at a smile; the father will be pleased with their offerings tonight, they are sure. it is a greater comfort than any other in the wake of their loss.
movement catches their eye, brief and faint, as time returns to itself. nausicaä grows still, gaze sharpening upon the forest floor as even their breath ceases for several beats. a scorched, rotting branch shifts just slightly, and from beneath it emerges a thin, disheveled mouse. the creature is vastly out of place in the desolate forest; lost, perhaps. an unfortunate fate. on any other night, the telkhine might turn their gaze from the creature and think no more of it — but this night, pontus demands sacrifice. swift steps carry them forward even before the thought forms fully, muzzle dipping low as the bone falls from their grasp. their jaws close around the mouse a moment later, jerking upward and releasing to flip the creature onto its back. one paw darts out to press it into the earth as it falls, and the wolfdog moves quickly to take each delicate limb between their teeth, wrenching them violently from the mouse's body. the conduit is deaf to the creature's wails, thinking only of pontus — they must hurry, now, to present this sacrifice to their father.