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Her beautiful sister did not make her wait long, and for that she was thankful. The song that responded to hers brought a sad smile to the gypsy’s hybrid features, for she still feared rejection from the only family that she had to call her own. Their mother was presumably alive, as was their father and the extensions of both of them, but Magnolia was the only one she had here, and though she hoped her sister had found a home here, a part of her wished that the same could be said in reverse. She reached up nervously to touch at the many scarves draped over her shoulders, the ones that had not fit in the bag with the rest of her clothing, and she adjusted the bags that rested on the sturdy back of her mare, listening to the soft mewling cries of the felines in their confines of leather and blankets. Soon, she hoped, they would have a new home and she could allow them to wander freely. Of course, not freely around the territory; she would keep them close, at least until they had grown, and perhaps there would be more felines.
Valeria snorted loudly, alerting the former scout of her sister’s approach, and Foxglove looked up, jade eyes filled with a hope she had not known she was feeling. Her sister did not run to her this time, though, as she had in the past, and Foxglove faltered, opening and closing her mouth slightly when Magnolia spoke. It was not the warm welcome she would have hoped for, and perhaps that was because she was closer than ever to the territory now. Magnolia had expressed fear for her safety before, and now the blonde sister was going against such warnings, tempting the members of the pack with her presence so close to their borders. Would her beloved Magnolia turn her away now, simply for not heeding such warnings? The words were not cold, but they did not hold the happiness she had hoped she would find here with her silver sister.
“If you will have me,” she responded quietly, eyes turned down to the water that separated them now. She reached into the bag that contained her clothing and few possessions, fingering the two small daggers she had found in Halifax and had diligently cleaned in the time since she had found them. Lifting out the one she had intended as a gift for her sister, Foxglove laid it flat in her palm, holding it out for the Vendetta to see. Foxglove knew she was walking in blind. She knew absolutely nothing of the pack that her sister now called home, and yet, she wanted nothing more than to join it now so that she might be with her sister where she felt she belonged, away from the cruel clutches of the tribe and its feathered wolves. Even with her tormenters gone and with no chance of their return, she had suffered one too many nightmares about the wolves that had captured her and locked her away, destroying all that she was.
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