Change was among them. Sindri remained steadfast in her existence, a happy figure in her family unit and otherwise finding more ingenious ways to slip away from the confines of home. She had yet to officially leave the island, but the path in which was revealed when the moon took away the waters had been discovered not long ago.
Sindri was biding her time, but then things started shifting.

Loki and Saga were among the first of the tragedies, and though Sindri was quite sure in her knowledge they they'd been plucked up by some benevolent force she didn't entirely understand, it wad Cupid her heart ached for. Sure, Loki and Saga were gone, but the dark sweeping figure she saw when she closed her eyes wouldn't let anything bad happen to them. She was the night itself, and Sindri had always felt most at home when she felt the shadowy arms wrap about her.
Poor Cupid, he only had those who remained.

So Sindri stayed home with him, and as he uttered soft prayers she could often barley hear, she remained a figure of what she hoped was comfort. If her presence could ease his heart any, she was glad to be bored at home, wondering what adventures her father and sister must've been enjoying in the realm of stars and darkness.

When Tyr called, Sindri very nearly ignored it. Cupids calls mattered, and Freyas calls mattered. Anyone else.... well, that was more of a suggestion, one she didn't feel like heeding until her foggy toned father rose to meet it. Sindri frowned but, nonetheless, trotted along at Cupids tail, looking very much more like a stern body guard than a wayward, hard to pin down daughter. She sat down on his other side, glad Astrid was taking up his other flank.
The more familiarity, the better.

Sindri was quiet, half glowering half confused.