The Sentinels There's a fire starting in my heart

ooc: set for the end of May, when the pups will be able to walk.

Osprey was out again, having left her children for few minutes, in order to deal with the pressing matters of rehydrating herself, doing some business, as well as stretching her feet. She was not far away, keeping an ear and eye open to anyone, who would dare to approach the den.

However, little Sarah did not know that, when much to her disappointment she woke up to find that she had somehow missed her mother leaving. Again! Not feeling content with the prospect of pushing around and climbing over her two siblings, she decided to take a little excursion around the den. Her feet were strong enough to hold her weight and with a little more effort they were able to carry her in a direction she wanted. So, in a slow manner she was shuffling towards the den's mouth. Light that came in sparked the girl's curiosity.

She had been indifferent to the new babes, perhaps haughtily refusing to acknowledge their existence. Emaleth was used to being the darling of Donnelaith, along with her beloved sister Deirdre, and she was suspicious of the changes that might shake that world view— particularly in the aftermath of her errant spell. But the dark child was nothing if not curious, and as much as she wished to ignore the puppies forever, she could not help but want to learn what she could of them. She lingered near Dante's den, watching the comings and goings, but never drew near even when invited.

When Osprey left the mouth to relieve herself, the dark witch seized the opportunity to draw near— though she knew better than to enter without permission, she knew the children might be able to hear her from out here. She sang softly, wordless; a trilling melody borne from the depths of her soul.

It would be few days later, when all of them would finally venture away from the safe confines of the den to the great Outside, learning that their world was way bigger than they had thought. However of this little trip no one would ever find anything out and Sarah would have forgotten all about it in a matter of days. 

Crying had become such a routine thing for her that only, when she felt that there was someone lingering around the den mouth, did she happily realize that her loud call for their mother's return had somehow paid off. The voice was unfamiliar, but the song seemed inviting. "Eeep," she squealed and fuelled with the enthusiasm of this discovery, shuffled forwards, until she reached the invisible border between the den and the outside. There she paused to see a shadow that did not resemble any of her parents. 

"Ow..." she just said and her little feet gave way under her, making the toddler flop on her belly.