It’s been a year and a half, give or take. At some point, she let them know she had to return to her home sept, that there were things she had to learn, and she could not do so here, not right then, not under the circumstances she was fighting under. She had to go home, she had to remember her past, even relive parts of it, in order to forge forward into the future.
It had taken longer than planned, but some things can simply not be rushed. Thus, those who soar with Eagles, who have felt her only in the distance, too far to feel anything other than she lives, have felt that connection grow steadily stronger during her journey. Other than that, she says nothing, she does not give them any warning of her approach, that she has come home.
Until now.
She steps off the bus, the driver very VERY happy to see the last of the Modi, as are those who have shared the ride with her, and shoulders her bag. She is very much the same, yet fundamentally different as well. She left a shamed cub, she has returned a Cliath once more, and with a new confidence. She still walks with the pride of princes, though her blood hold only the trace of thieves and whores. Her pale eyes still flash with the boil of rage, and the pride of bearing, the determination to prove everyone wrong about her – but there is something subtly different as well.
It is not simply her hair – which is longer now, cut at a jagged bob along the line of her jaw – or the makeup – a lot less of it, or even the clothing – under the short leather jacket she wears is an actual pair of jeans, with a casual top (the heels though, those are the same, boots that add 2 inches to her already above average height.) Her ‘uniform’ of before now shows some variety, some willingness to relax, if only a tiny bit. There’s something there, some lesson learned while she was away, deep in the center of pale blue eyes that still burn with the fury of the full moon. Time will tell if the lesson’s learned while she was away will improve her standing in Chicago – but most importantly, improve her standing with Silence.
She takes a slow breath, re-memorizing the stench that is the Chicago Scab, before she turns toward the ‘Green, and begins to walk a very, very familiar path.
AnneMarie ‘Ruhiger’ Hoch has returned home.