#margo01

      Rose never forgot a face, no matter how hard she tried ---and oh, had she ever tried to forget Margo’s. She hadn’t expected to run into her in Hollow Grove, though she likely should have, given that she’d run into so much of her past in the little town. Now it was staring her straight in the face, metaphorically speaking, with big blue eyes cast towards something else. From across the room, the redhead weighed her options. Not long after, she spoke just loud enough that no one else would hear, unless the werewolf in the corner was older than she could guess. “Long time no see, Fox.”

      Sarah had found a solace in Margo that she hadn’t expected to find in Hollow Grove, despite reuniting with her grandparents. Her mother was out of the question for bonding, that was for sure ( for now, at least ). Margo was already someone that the young witch could rely on, she knew. Somehow, she could just tell the vampire was to be trusted ---with even more trust than she afforded most. It was this fact that allowed her to turn to her new friend, who managed to feel like an old one, when she felt down. 

      She showed up at Margo’s hotel with two bottles of wine in tow, offered a friendly wave to the desk clerk and as much of a smile as she could muster ---who did NOT, no matter what Margo said, look like a young John Oliver--- and made her way to her friend’s room. As close to simultaneous as she could manage, she knocked and sent a text ; ‘ here 🍷! ’