*Anne*
It's been ages since I have been to a ball, and my arrival is causing quite the stir. I do wish I hadn't waited so long to return to pack society. An awkwardness hovers about as people approach me. Should they mention Walter? Should they not? Should they offer condolences? Should they carry on as though nothing were amiss?
Gentlemen don't seem to know if they should ask me for a dance. How do you treat a she-wolf who has the baggage of a widow, but isn't a widow? The only one who seems at all comfortable with me is Chester, as he expertly glides me over the dance floor.
"My brother would be pleased to see you smiling again," he says.
It's strange, but I see little of Walter in him. His blond hair seems more easily tamed. Not a single freckle dares to mar his skin, where Walter h
