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She fought to stay present. It was all too easy to fall into old habits, to let herself drift when the anger and the uncertainty got to be too much. But she couldn't afford something bad happening again. She couldn't afford to not be in control.

Afraid to even sleep, in fear that she would only wake up to more devastation, Bragi had certainly seen better days. The bags under her eyes were heavy, her eyes and her coat dull and listless. There was a particular sway to her gait as she shuffled more than walked the edge of the island.

The roar of the waves was as close to comfort as she could find. On days when the sea was particularly unruly, the noise could almost drown out the thoughts constantly swirling through her mind.

But the snap of a stray twig underfoot and the sound of a voice brought her back. It was one she... didn't recognize.

She blinked in the morning sunlight, her gaze falling on a wolf who looked quite like sunlight, herself. She was also one of the tiniest wolves Bragi had ever seen — smaller than Sindri, even — and a complete stranger.

Uh. Hi, she said dumbly.

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