If Ozera hadn't already chosen a pack, perhaps she would have moved out here, and dug a den into the hillside. The gnarled, intertwining helices would support the roof of the den substantially. Now that she thought of it, Ozera wasn't really sure how she felt about joining a pack now. She wasn't attached to Midnight Plateua, she knew practically no one. On the other hand, she knew and enjoyed Indru, Triell, and Ruiko --yes, even Ruiko-- from Swift River. However, she didn't think she could just change her mind like that. That seemed wrong. I ought to at least try it out.
For now though, Ozera became the watchdog of Luna Hill, her eyes investigating her surroundings from her uncanny vantage point. It was refreshing to put herself on a different plane than the rest of the world, it was like distancing herself from all of their depressing problems that tumbled around in her head. Ozera, so full of empathy, and where empathy was non-applicable: sympathy, was starting to feel weighed down. She had thought she had missed pack life, missed being with others, but she was finding it hard to get back into the groove. Her dark head swung back and she nipped at an itch on her shoulder, mentally trying to scrape some of the rust off.</blockquote>