Stone Circle there are shooting stars behind your eyes

As the days go by, Noma still struggles. Wardruna has frightened her when he’d snatched the food from her, only proving to be a constant presence even when she thinks she’s alone. When his teeth came awfully close to her face, she felt a fury she hadn’t before. He may have been trying to give her food that she ultimately rejected, he is also quick to prove he can take it away. She does not turn her nose up at any other prey he brings her but eagerly eats each time. After a few meals, her stomach is swollen and she looks worse. Eventually, the rest of her body will catch up.

Keeping warm in the cool months is proving difficult still. Her body has a lot of mending and the outer portion will take the longest. Her coat has been slow to grow in for winter, leaving her thin and skin bare, victim to the cold wind the whips around every now and then. Now that snow is a real threat, she can’t afford anymore loss. Tired, and still low in energy, she finds herself pressed into the fur of her captor if only to keep warm. The den is warm, kept so by the brute, and she is content to simply exist in the same space.

When he moves, she tucks closer into herself and remains curled up on the den floor, absorbing what heat he left behind. She does not realize how much time has passed since his departure but she shimmies out of her stiffened curl. She slinks out of the den, shaking our her fur and trembling at the new bite of cold. All the warmth has evaporated long ago and she needs to stretch out her legs anyway.