The Sentinels caves

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It is already too late to swim when the water reaches your lips.

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A tipped crown with flatly flipped auds showed her immediate willingness to parallel with the command, and already she showed how swift her discipline was in action as she stood prime on his flank in a matter of smoothly passed seconds. What a fine beta she would have made, following orders as executed with no such protest to dare cross her singular mind. The gentle Swan took his words and made them law.

“I confess, I am inept in conversations, sir. My sharpest dagger lies in active wit and battle tactics- yet should you choose to mold me appropriately, I may better in design.”

Smooth of two matched the singular of the behemothian leader, and they seemed almost a pair as she constrained him sharply by looks yet accented through movement. It was clear they both were peas of a different pod, but their similarities through poise were near breathtaking. An onlooker might have thought twice to intervene should they have been considered targets.

“I am very eager to learn what interests you, my lord; perhaps that will be what bonds us, swiftest.”

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Not all birds have been taught to fly. Some simply fall until they either learn, or perish.

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