        There are many impulses that Lydia finds hard to keep under control, and her curiosity is one of those. It is, she knows, why she has ended up here, part of a pack ---- part of why she is a banshee. Perhaps that means she should have learnt her lesson, but she has stopped denying herself the simple parts of her soul that long to be bared. She knows  that Scott is alone, can see his silhouette at the window of his room as she approaches the house. She raises one hand in a small wave, waiting for him to open the door as she steps onto the porch.
        It has turned to autumn, the air sharp, and she wishes she had thought to put a coat on over the soft knitted jumper she wears ---- it is not quite enough to keep the cold from itching at her skin. But the promise of warmth and company within Scott's home stops her from shivering too violently, and she manages a smile as he opens the door.
        "Hey ---- sorry to turn up like this. Can I come in?"
