Blackfeather Woods Night of the Living Dead

Where Abraxas went, Astrid would follow. Silently and mockingly - forever a reminder that he would never get rid of the blood that bound them together. He was her brother, she his sister, and as a sister she would do whatever she had to do to make him feel like a worthless piece of shit. She had heard mother, but was way too focused upon her brother to bother what was going on. She did not help him, did not even call for his attention as he drug the skull to their mother. Astrid felt like she was a gift - an offer, all by herself and did not bother bringing her own gift. 

She settled near mother, but her eyes were fixed upon Abraxas for most of the time - even as more wolves joined did she not lose sight of him. Well, that was until the handsome Damien grabbed her attention - sitting next to a male she faintly recognized. She looked at him - trying to get his attention, but not obviously so. She did not want to come off as desperate, of course - he was just one of many, nothing special. She sat proudly, head raised in what one could perhaps call a child's ignorance, and waited patiently (H A H, yeah right...) for the reason they were all gathering.