Ankyra Sound one gonna run me down, a hail of bullets in my wake

Why don't you feel anything? Wylla wondered to herself as she strode slowly along the waterfront, idly memorizing the shapes of several islands clustered off the coast. Being home again ought to have evoked stronger feelings in her, but she felt indifferent. She had no meaningful memories of the place. She'd been too young to even leave the underground when Lusca spirited her and Ingram away, but she remembered the blue light of the grotto and the recalled blue light of the ocean as her mother whisked past it. These things weren't enough to stir her to emotion.

Her lips drew down thoughtfully and she turned away from the churning sea in time to see a dark figure cutting across the beach in her general direction. The yearling dipped her dark head down, intent on avoiding company for the time being whilst watching the oncoming wolf from the corner of one eye; only when he got closer did she lift her head, stutter step, and call out an uncertain, "Ingram?"

She didn't dare get her hopes up about it—just because one was here and said the other was here didn't make it so, for Raptor had been pretty damn certain of himself too—but her tail betrayed her and stirred into a premature wave.