The Sentinels she was made of flowers and satin and velveteen dreams

overgrown flowers littered the earths floor. the ones that did deirdre plucked, and placed in an ever-growing pile that she consistently returned to. by eveningtime, deirdre lay before the pile and gathered them to her breast, inhaling the sweet perfume of them before she began to work a simple witches magic unto them. the wise old owl had shown her this trick of simply weaving the elongated ends of the flowers stems against one another, and the babe had become well-practiced in this. her fangs were gentle, as gentle as she would touch her own sister; though the flowers were dead, the owl had told her that in the afterlife, they would know their treatment and exact vengeance upon those that discarded them. all things, she was told, must be treated with kindness. the dead have eyes, and the dead know all; let them guide you when they wish, and the living will know. strange words, but words that spoke to the pale woodland girl, who paused in her efforts to see the garland she worked upon. it looked lovely, soft and violent pinks alike combined, as well as purples of near-every shade. while she worked, she hummed an age old melody that nature often sang itself, and the wilds watched.

I'M SORRY. I KNOW I HAVE TWO THREADS WITH DEIRDRE BUT SHE'S SO PRECIOUS ):

She wandered through the territory quietly, moving through the trees swiftly. Her white pelt stood out more than she felt comfortable with, but there was nothing she could do about it. The girl was a glowing moon in the depths of the night, and could be seen for miles... but she was not the only one. Against the darkened forest -- even so early in the evening -- Aria spotted a small patch of white. She moved towards it, picking out the sweet, pale witch. The beta smiled.

"Miss Deirdre," the girl murmured as she approached, hoping the younger would not shy away. "It looks lovely," she added, studying the garland the babe had seemingly created. As keen as she was on beauty and nature, Aria had never done, no.. had time for -- such a thing. She was intrigued, impressed even. She lowered her head to be on more even grounds with the small princess, curious how she would react.

you're always welcome in my threads!

ah! but it mattered not how well-practiced she was! deirdre had not the skill of a bird, and watched as she tried to place the thing upon herself it all fall asunder. the owl had said it would be something she might not be able to do, and that he had never seen a wolf do such a thing, but she so admired the craft of birds and wished to create as they had! belatedly, deirdre heard the voice of aria who must have seen the creation before she herself had ruined it. the cub was comfortable enough with aria, now, to not even wish of fleeing. the thick scent of donnelaith upon the pale beta at last was received by deirdre in a way that meant understanding: aria was family, too.

she placed her slender muzzle atop her paws. wolves cannot make them, but birds can. i keep trying, but... teeth were for biting through, not for tying ends of things together. she sighed. its alright, her emerald eyes drifted to the mess and back to aria again. ...you want to look at the garden you, me, an' eilidh made? she suggested, tilting her head. it would distract her from her internal disappointment, surely, and she could learn more.

Aria was some ways away still, careful not to frighten the young pup. She moved forward when spoken to, and could now see that this wasn't any work of art. The flowers were not laced together-- it seemed they had been tied together, but each of the stems were broken and oozing with water juice. "It's still lovely," Aria assured the babe, who appeared very disappointed in her work. She smiled to Deirdre, and her ears perked when the pup asked to go to the garden.

"Of course, do you remember how to get there?" the snowy princess asked, but even if she didn't, Aria knew where everything was-- she would get them there.

the babe looked warmly up to aria, who commended her work despite her failings. her tail pat against the earth, a timid, you think so? coming from her without her knowing it. as she glanced to the ground, deirdre did think there was a loveliness to the mess. she was partial to her flowers, and when you loved something, was it not always beautiful?

the witch looked beyond aria when asked the question, and then back to the pretty pale she-wolf. yes, the cub murmured; just beyond aria was a floating wisp, the very thing that guided her to the proper places. it might be invisble to the others eye, or perhaps it was a tangible thing that could be seen in its phosphorous state! but she sprang in its direction, to lead the way to their garden.

"Yes of course," Aria replies softly to the babe, smiling at her. The small witch then leaps up, bounding in the direction of their beautifully planted garden. It was the correct direction thus far-- thankfull-- but the young pup seemed to be following something, as she leapt like she was chasing a butterfly. Aria did not see anything, so she assumed it was nothing but childish nature. The girl followed the young Mayfair closely, smiling at her adorable ways. 

they led her true, these spirited whisps that bobbed and glowed; she could not catch them, and they winked out of sight upon their arrival. deirdre laughed joyously, throwing her head upward in delight, before she turned to aria with eyes that sparkled with happiness. but something upon the earth caught her eye--'twas drawn to a green budding thing, and deirdre let out a little gasp. aria!!! look! she moved to her belly to gently nose the thing, it grows! her emerald eyes drew to the face of aria, her expression very much leaving her an open book to her lovely friend. aria need only glance at her to know the text there: we did this!

Aria smiles. "It does indeed, Deirdre," she says, staring at the beautiful garden with interest. The pair spent the rest of the day in the garden, sharing stories and goofing off. Aria shared the little knowledge she had about herbs with the small child, hoping to keep her interest in medicine. One day, the young witch would be extremely helpful-- she knew it.