Stone Circle ghosts don't stand a chance against the radio

When she wakes, she’s in the den alone. The cool air infiltrates the absence of Wardruna and she trembles, shifting a little. His scent isn’t very strong and she doesn’t know how long he’s been gone or if he even said anything to her when he left. Most of the time it does not bother her to left alone, mostly preferring it than his company where he tries to interact with her, but the chill of the morning threatens to seep deeper than bone. She tries to avoid him when she can but she is never given much peace and quiet. She doesn’t suspect it’ll be long before he’s back with something else for her to eat or another disappointing return from a hunt.

Her ribs are still visible and her waist is tucked high but she is not as gangly and emaciated as she had been a few weeks ago. The progress is slow for his hunting skills are often less than impressive and he is slimming down by pushing himself too far. If he would leave her be and let go of his efforts, he can fend properly for himself and the rest of Easthollow instead of wasting his time on a lost cause.

Slowly, she closes her eyes again but it is short-lived. The wind whistles outside the mouth of the den and she struggles with the urge to urinate. It forces her to untangle her thin legs and slip from the den. She travels the short distance in order to relieve herself but she has lost all warmth she’d been able to maintain. Her tremble escalates into a violent shiver and she turns to return underground but in the same moment, a few snowflakes fall from the sky and she glances up to the overcast day as they begin to drop a few at a time every so often.

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Ezekiel was a skeptic of everyone who joined Easthollow, or better yet; everyone in general. He wasn’t particularly fond of Warduna. The guy seemed just a little too big and impeding. Plus Zeke wasn’t sure about the whole deal with his friend, the quiet emaciated girl who seemed to follow him everywhere. He didn’t like it, he might not have reason to be against Wardruna but in his mind he had many. Today, on his way back from patrol, the huge grey male decided to pass by Wardruna and Noma’s den, just to see how they were.

When he got there, he saw the girl, walking wearily back into the den. She looked frozen, and hungry. His immediate reaction was to help, so he walked forwards briskly and stopped at the entrance to the den. He barked to get her attention, and looking at her now he could’ve sworn he knew her. But no, of course not. He pushed that thought away and spoke, You need help. I can hunt or stay and keep you warm. He offered, but more commanded. He really needed to work on being polite, even his offering help sounded rude.

As she returns to the den, she finds herself lost in thought that she doesn’t even notice the scent filling her nostrils. Part of her just expects it to be Wardruna because he always seems to know everything she does but when she looks up, she yelps quietly in surprise to see someone familiar. Her ears fall back against her head and her heart lodges into her throat. Most of the wolves here she barely recognizes and she isn’t even entirely sure she has seen everyone. Noma keeps to herself as much as possible to avoid any further exposure. It’s simply easier that way.

But Ezekiel she has not seen in… a very long time. He’d left the Silvertip (?) long ago and he hadn’t been in the hollow when she’d been here last. She’d never thought she’d see him again and it had been easy to let him fall from memory. She’d been so little.

To her benefit, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t recognize her. She shifts a little, tucks her tail between her legs and lowers her head. Even if they accepted her in, and she is under Wardruna’s care, she knows the rank Valette has given her. It stings even though it is only appropriate.

Noma swallows the lump in her throat and she glances toward him as he offers to help her and she glances around, feeling scrutiny under the spotlight. She isn’t nearly as thin as she had been when she joined but with a long way to go, still, she shouldn’t be turning it down but she can’t bring herself to accept. Instead, Noma only shakes her head and glances back in the direction of the den that he has blocked from her. The creeping anxiety Wardruna is just around the corner haunts her and she shifts a little, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave her be.

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The younger female shook her head and stood without a word. He waited a minute, then decided for her. Wait here then. He knew her rank in the pack, he knew he didn’t have to do this. Besides, she had turned down his offer. But he knew what starvation looked like, and if this girl didn’t get healthy before winter she had little chance of making it. As long as she was under the protection of the Easthollow wolves, of Ezekiel, she would not die. He wouldn’t accept another death or disappearance, not if he could help it.

He trotted away and into the forest, where he found a small squirrel. It would do, or it would’ve done. It must’ve seen his big old self coming, and it scattered before he could even start chasing. He swiped the ground in frustration and turned to find something else to hunt. It didn’t take long to find a mouse, plump with the berries and nuts of autumn. It was not much but it would do as well. He had better luck here, and he killed it without much effort. He quickly returned to Noma and Wardruna’s den and chuffed through a mouthful of mouse. He dropped the mouse on the ground and nudged it in her direction.

It should’ve been more but I messed up, this will be good for now I hope. He said to her, backing up and waiting to see how she would respond.

Ezekiel doesn’t like her answer and she frowns (if anymore possible than she already is) and decides to do something anyway. He disappears from view and she’s at least thankful he hadn’t chosen to spend time in the den with her, knowing Wardruna wouldn’t like that at all. She closes her eyes, hating how much he now dictates anything she does without even being here. She trembles due to the cold and looks to the den, considering slipping away to keep herself warm a little while longer, but she expects him to return any second, once more to not be happy with something she’s done.

Her stomach still hasn’t quite settled but after a while, the other eventually returns. She glances around for Wardruna again, and then looks down at the small kill at her feet. It is a long moment that she stares at it, uncertain if she should even try to eat it. It’s small, and likely won’t offer much, but perhaps it won’t mess up her stomach any more than it already is. Noma licks her lips, shifts her seating position to redistribute her weight, and offers a weak smile of appreciation. “Thanks,” she says, using one paw to drag it closer but she doesn’t make a move to eat it just yet.

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Noma brought Ezekiel’s catch closer to her but refrained from eating. Ezekiel didn’t know why, if she had offered him food he would’ve eaten it then and there, it would be a sign of gratitude. Anyone could look at her and see that she needed as much as she could get, but it seemed she didn’t want it. Or she was afraid to take it. This brought Ezekiel back to his distrust of the male Wardruna, perhaps he was controlling Noma, abusing her. Ezekiel wouldn’t stand for that, but as of now he had no proof.

You will die if you don’t eat food, I know it isn’t much but it will help. He says to her, this time more of a command. If she was starving herself he would have to make her eat somehow. Still standing and not getting much closer so that he wouldn’t make her uncomfortable, he continued. Is Wardruna your mate?

At first, Noma expects him to take her appreciation and leave her to eat in piece but the longer he stands there, the more her stomach churns again—as it had with the fox Wardruna had brought—but she takes a slow breath to try and steady her stomach. She’d been able to eat find a few days ago, having been forced to by the eyes of the pack as well as her “mate” but it doesn’t make it any easier, or make her feel any better. Nothing has a taste to it, nor does she have any desire for it, and she wonders how long this charade can go on. If only she could shout from the treetops if she didn’t think Wardruna would terrorize her. He wouldn’t offer her a swift death, that she would prefer, but he’d haunt her until her final days.

When Ezekiel’s voice becomes stern, her eyes widen a little and she shrinks back, expecting a flash of teeth that never come. She lowers her head a little more, ears fallen back firmly against her head, and she slowly drops to pick up the mouse in an attempt to eat it. It takes a moment, and he asks the following question while she tries to eat, and she hopes to go slow enough that this will comfort him. Noma more or less eats the entire thing whole, despite the audible upset gurgle of her stomach, and looks down at the ground to focus on keeping it from coming back up.

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Damn it, he’d tried to be nice, he hadn’t gotten super close to her and tried not to snap. But still she was suddenly flinching and looking down. Fuck. He hissed to himself, because if she was scared of him it kind of ruined everything he hoped to accomplish. In hopes of salvaging whatever was left, he spoke to her more softly now. I’m sorry if I scared you, I just don’t want you to die. He said, though it was still kind of blunt. 

He then realized that perhaps it was best to try this in increments. If he was going to win Noma’s trust and perhaps get the truth about Wardruna out of her, it likely wouldn’t happen in one day. He backed away, I’ll go now, but I will hunt for you more often. For you, not your mate. He said, then turned to leave. The brutish male just wanted to help, but he was unsure if Noma was help-able.

Zeke out! But I would love another <3

Somehow, in an attempt to keep attention off her, she has managed to do the exact opposite. Again. Part of her knew this would happen, she’s been here before and she knows how these wolves work, even if it’s been a long time since she’s really been around them. Long enough that they don’t remember her, but instead see a wolf on death’s door. If, or when, she returns to her health, it’ll be much more obvious.

Ezekiel retreats, deciding he will hunt more for her and makes it clear that it’s for her and not Wardruna. She’d curse herself if she didn’t feel the heave of her stomach, forcing to turn away from his retreating form and stand awkwardly to the other side of the den. When she can no longer hear the crunch of heavy footsteps, she eases herself and allows her stomach to expel the mouse she’d eaten a moment ago.

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