Noma does not stir when Wardruna leaves the den, deep asleep as she often is. If she isn’t being forced to follow him around in the cold, she stays in the den curled up and asleep. She wakes when he makes her, forcing her to eat something, and it has put a little meat on her bones but she is still grossly thin and it has become difficult to care as much as he does. She’d have long since passed away if it hadn’t been for his intervention of her travels and she thinks about it often, wishing he’d left her alone that day. This is no way to live, either, as she takes what little pleasure she can in dreams. In an alternate reality, perhaps she is happy. Perhaps she has all the things she needs and she doesn’t feel pain. Every so often it is interrupted by the occasional nightmare but she takes relief where she can.
When Wardruna returns, calling out to her, Noma still does not move. Her ears are relaxed against her head, legs curled into her form, and the rest of her is lax while she stays in a sleep deep enough not to hear him. Even the scent of blood and fresh meat doesn’t draw her out and despite the new chill in the den without the absence of his thick fur, she remains unfazed.
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The moment teeth tough her ear, her heart lodges into her throat, blocking off her airway and she startles awake, gasping for air. Her eyes widen and pupils dilate and instantly she’s on her feet, springing forward and crashing right into the one to wake her. She cries out a yelp in surprise before she’s sent backwards, stumbling into the wall with uncoordinated and weak legs. Despite the extra meat on her bones and her strength returning, she’s still far from in good condition and it makes it easy to send her back to the ground, crumpling in a mess of a wolf on the den floor. There isn’t much room for her to move with him inside the den and it only takes a few second before it’s over and she’s heaving for breath, trying to return air to her lungs once more while she tries to sort through her tired brain about what happened.
Noma remains still on the ground, afraid to move, before she registers where she is and who is in the den with her but she doesn’t acknowledge him. She hasn’t felt such a strong emotion of…
anything in so long that she isn’t sure her body can handle it. Her heart pumps her blood heavier than before, feeling it throb in her ears , and she tries to reign it in and calm down by staring at the ground, trying to keep things in one piece while she focuses on a steadier breath.
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It takes a long moment before she’s able to focus on anything else. Wardruna moves around her a little, saying something that she barely registers. Finally, when she is able to take slower, even breaths, she closes her eyes and focuses on the rest of her body. Her stomach churns and her mouth waters in a way that does not invite her to eat, licking back but unable to slow it down. He demands for her to eat and she stiffens, lifting her nose to note the scent of blood in the air. It does not help the new sensation in her mouth and the way her stomach tightens into a hard knot.
“I am not hungry,” she says, carefully, her voice soft and low in a way that means it. The thought of food all of a sudden makes her feel weird and out of place and she can’t think of a good reason, she has a hard time thinking at all, and she scrunches her eyes together and turns from him (without leaving the den), and sits awkwardly. Her chest flares at her diaphragm and her stomach contracts, her waist thinning while her belly threatens to heave.
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Noma looks away when he starts to respond, able to feel the new anger coming from him. Her ears tighten on her head and she flattens them, staring at the ground when he gives in and accepts her words for what they are, whether or not he believes them. For a few minutes she sits there as he settles on the ground away from her. A gust of wind touches the fringes of the den, causing her to shiver, and she slips out of the den for a moment to tug the kill inside so no one stopped by and thought to take it.
She drops it as soon as she can, closing her eyes to steady herself, and she moves further back. This time, she does not stop and force herself between the den wall and his thick furred form, but instead in front of the way he’s facing. It isn’t as warm, with the mouth to the front, but it’s close and she tucks her feet beneath her and lowers her head to the ground.
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seems like a good place to wrap this up so i just wrote up a little conclusion and archived it. :-)
Wardruna does not look up as she exits the den but knows she did not go far as he hears her pulling the meat instead. She does not eat it, though, and his ears flatten against his head, tucking his nose beneath a large paw. The northerner offers his thrall no other words. Instead, he stays true to his word of being tired. He closes his eyes and before he really has time to think about it he is asleep.
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