Dial Tone

Everything had changed, and Veigar didn't quite know where he fit in. Aryn was gone and he hadn't heard from Recluse or Deathbelle for as long as he could remember. But it wasn't like they really would be able to find him if they tried, not really - he'd been deeply reclusive for months now, only coming out to scavenge here and there as his sight finally failed him completely. His world was dark now, completely and utterly black, and he knew there was no coming back from this. Maybe if he'd sought help a long time ago, after the Long Night, someone would've been able to do something for him... but then again, maybe not.

But it was too late for all that. Hearing Medusa's call made his stomach tighten in a painful, anxious knot. It'd been so long since he'd encountered many of his packmates and now he was being thrust right beside them all. Maybe he could lay low, and not attract much attention to himself. How much longer could he go before someone realized something was wrong, he wondered?

As he approached the gathering he knew he'd be lucky if someone didn't notice something. His eyes were hazy now, little to his knowledge, though they'd always been a milky silver so maybe that wasn't so surprising. But the most jarring of all was how skinny he'd gotten. He very clearly looked like he'd hardly eaten for months, ribs visible through his coat, which looked dull and lifeless now.

Following the more familiar scents, he slowly slid in and sat down somewhere near Ghoul and Macabre. He wouldn't necessarily consider them friends, Veigar wasn't sure he had any of those, but they were familiar enough to him and that was what he needed right now.