The Sentinels gayatri

she covets the way his eyes linger upon the curves of her hipbone, the scallop of her ribcage.  she has been looked at like that before; it is the look most men wear when they see her.  perhaps one day she will stop chasing that feeling, maybe once she's a little older or she's settled down.  but for now she is still young, and she is not yet tired of the way that boys and men both look at her.

she doesn't answer his question.  instead she lets a small, thin smile emerge as her features light up.  it's foolish, she knows, for there are few who believe in spirits anymore.  even her siblings seem to take after their father.  yet, i can feel the spirits here.  deirdre.  emaleth.  my family.  she knows that donnelaith lost many to the fire, and she wonders if there are still spirits who have not spoken to her.  what about you?