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

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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