Ankyra Sound you know i'm afraid of little girl ghosts.

She was in. She was in!! Yami was pleased as hell with herself, even though she didn't entirely grasp what that meant yet. She'd met many of her packmates, if not all of them (she wasn't totally sure) and while they had seemed a bit rough around the edges, they didn't strike her as dangerous. At least, not in the way she had imagined when Scarface -- Sorry, Firefly -- had painted them in her mind. She felt more at ease knowing this, but was well aware that she still needed to acclimate herself with this place and this pack much better.

And yet, here she was. On the beach. Again.

Yami was obsessed. She had seen the ocean from afar prior to joining Rusalka's ranks, of course. But seeing it and actually being near it didn't quite compare. She loved the smell of the salt and brine, she loved the sound of the crashing waves. She loved the feel of the sand in her toes, even this cold, harsh, frozen stuff that scraped against the pads of her feet. The Ostrega couldn't describe the feeling it gave her, but it was a good one, and she wanted to hold on tight to that feeling and never let it go.

She trotted happily along the shoreline, her hair a wild, salty mess and her eyes bright with contentment. It was absurdly cold and she knew she'd have to return to the grotto's sheltered crevices again soon, but for now, she continued her little jaunt, humming a made-up tune to herself as she went.