OOC here.
Word Count → 000
To learn that her rank had finally raised had given some of the dog's swagger back. She wasn't as low as she'd been when she'd first returned, spirit crushed with the loss of her pride. Her eyes glittered fervently, knowing that soon enough she would be rising faster and faster, racing for the next rank. Of course, that meant that she'd have to actually interact with the members. Her precious standing as a privileged outsider had been dashed, and now she had to work with the others. It was like when she'd first shifted, having a place in her family but no rank, no worth assigned yet. She had to prove herself.
Amy didn't have a clue how to go about doing that though. With her family, it had been pretty clean cut. Prove that she was better than everyone outside of her family. Give the family strength and power. Show no weakness. Always put the family's interests first. In Anathema though, Amy didn't have such a clear set of guidelines. She was blind in a culture that she didn't understand, and for the longest time hadn't wished to, thinking that she was fine as the single member of her family with no need to blend with others. Walking through the tunnels where others dwelt Amy grumbled softly to herself, memorizing the feel beneath her hands.
Entering the area where she'd given her brief opinion on the pack to someone who was curious about such things Amy glanced around. Was that who she thought it was? A smile tugged at her lips, recognizing the foolish injured wolf she'd met before. Her hips swayed as she crossed the distance, looking down. On the surface it looked like he had chosen to work as a craftsman. The scars and build of his muscles told about training to fight though. Interesting work. Amy could tell that it wasn't regulated, noting the roughness on his hands. There was no one training him. Self taught? He could take it either way, a comment on the stool or the fact she'd picked up from observing him.
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