Hold on to this lullaby; even when the music's gone

It had been a long time since she had come sniffing around these familiar parts. She was 'with family' but...her family was dead or scattered. Forgotten in their haste to leave. But she had returned, citing familial duties, wanting to see where she'd lived for so long. A walk through the park and further into the outskirts brought her to that hole she'd shoved herself into upon her first meeting with Frost. She had stripped, shoving the old clothing into the hole before shifting and making her way north. The wall was as she remembered it, seemingly impenetrable from the outside but she had known the truth. It hadn't been. Carefully she had picked her way through the property, through the yard with little care of the place she'd called her home for so long.

Quiet, bounding steps had taken her through the now deserted home, the front door still thrown wide open as if it were never shut. She had entered, careful with her nose in the air and scenting for any change. After she had found none she had escaped upstairs to her bedroom, it was ransacked as was the rest of the house. Things were strewn about haphazardly and the photo of the family was discarded against the wall, the glass shattered. She hadn't felt the glass slice her paws, or the way it made that small slash across her nose when she had nosed the photograph out. Careful, careful she had been, there was no blood to stain it.

The greatest moment had been the trek down the second staircase, down where her parents had died, this was where she had muted the pack bond. Twisted it just enough to hide the pain that scorched through her body. The wooden floor was stained, the darkness evident of the carnage that had happened and further towards the door of her where her sister, Charlotte, had fallen. She had trekked her own bloodstained paws through it, fresh spots appearing bright against the deepness.

She had thought she could handle it, she thought she had been ready to return. For the photograph, for what was once her family. Photograph in mouth she had fled to the family lands, to the myriad of holes that they'd dug when they were kits. To hide herself so far into the warrens and the dens that she wasn't sure she wanted to return.

The pack bond stayed muted.

She had practice at it, practice at hiding from others.

But now, now she didn't want to anymore. The house was dark, as it usually was in the dead of night. She had left the photograph near to the shopping cart, careful that it wouldnt get stepped on. Her fur was matted, dirty and dull and she was sure her paws were still stained a form of pink. She paced in front of the back door, unsure of her entrance, unsure if she was still...remembered. Slowly, she un-muted the pack bond to allow the entirely of it to hit her, a tug to the one inside. Incessant and throbbing as she poked at it, a bark left her jaws, quick and sharp and calling. Padding off the stoop she backed up a few steps and sat down, her head tilting to the side and her tail wrapped securely about herself like armor.