Hushed Willows Heart Beat Here

The song was a welcome reprieve from her nonexistent status of wolfdom. She felt the music in her bones, vibrating something old, awakening the dust that had settled upon the ghost of a heart she still held.
Waking from her slumber, she stretched, her back and elbows cracking with satisfying pops as she yawned. The fire lit dimly for Valmúa. Many evenings had passed and she had slowly gone through most of her stash of hallucinogens. The aftermath was unpleasant and cold to her, so she had fallen into a kind of apathetic despair which had no purpose nor direction. She was a shell of her former self in some ways, but in others she was merely a snake in a vulnerable state, shedding her skin and unable to be quite as effective as the predator of men that she had once been.
Her party had become little more than an ache for happiness. The sound though, it tempted her, and so she followed it with a clouded swiftness that a child might have for a delicious smell.
It did not take her long to find him there. She had grown thin, while he had recovered from his run-in with Kigifuck, and then some. She exhaled, bending her ears slightly as a soft princessa might do. Gæludýrið mitt, how long it has been, she cooed.