The Sentinels they picked up our trail

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As soon as his brother mentioned her, the warhound turned his head to the wood and breathed a soft sigh of understanding. It was rare that he made it through an entire day without his mind drifting back to the pale coat and green eyes of the woman who had birthed them. Most days, he thought of her with envy. There was nothing that he wouldn't have given to have been more like her. Instead, he carried the same indomitable aura as their tyrant of a father. Ford glanced toward Velen and latched his mismatched gaze to his brother's features. He wondered just how much of their mother ran through his veins.

“I think of her often,” he admitted in a soft and smoky voice. It was as though he was sharing something that he had locked away in his soul. “Why do you think she left this place?” the titan then inquired. Surely, if they were to have asked Deirdre... she would have spoken of love and the way of the world. She always had a fanciful answer for everything they'd ever inquired. Ford wanted to know the truth behind it all, though.