Wheeling Gull Isle And We'll Go A-Waltzing Matilda No More

Hope you don’t mind if I jump in.

Once again someone had snuck up on her. Giving a slight jump at the words that drew her from her deep contemplation. Anger rumbled in the usually gentile girl, and she snapped around at the man. “Really? I didn’t notice.” Who did he think she was, to just waltz right on past scent marking and make herself at home within pack lands? Sarcasm dripped from her snappy words. Obviously, this place had been deserted, although it was recent. She had yet to encounter any whom still called this place home, but she knew some still lingered.

A distinctly familiar scent had permeated the air just after meeting Strand, a scent she honestly had never expected to find again. Her brother, although it had been many months since she had seen him. They had been born on the same day in the same den, and there was no forgetting a litter mate who you had been so fond of. But she had run away, abandoning not only her damaged pack but also her siblings. She had no intention of facing Radcliffe anytime soon.

“What do you want?” She asked gruffly, she had been trying to decide what to do, and he had rudely interrupted her thought process.