The Sentinels Save what has been lost

Home.
A word Kirain had chased for so long, now materialized before her like a long-lost dream. Tears welled in her eyes unbidden, threatening to spill. It was so beautiful. So peaceful. For several moments, she simply stood there, taking it all in, this place that stirred something deep in her soul.

She drew in a breath, slow and steady, committing the scent to memory. Soon, it would become a comfort, a reminder of safety and belonging.

When Solenya mentioned dens, Kirain’s ears perked. She had known many temporary shelters, fleeting and fragile, such was the way of a nomad. But to have something hers, a space to root herself into the earth... The thought alone filled her chest with joy.

Her gaze wandered, searching, until it settled on a large tree standing quietly among the others. Its base was marked with old fire scars, more pronounced than those of its neighbors. Yet it stood tall, defiant. Surviving. Healing.

Something in her shifted. She felt the pull.

Stepping closer, she took in the moss that clung to the bark, the lines of blackened wood like old stories etched in time. It was imperfect. Damaged. Just like her.

Slowly, reverently, she raised a paw and placed it against the gnarled root. A quiet gesture. A vow.

Yes, she thought. This one.