As Grace ate, people drifted over, one by one. They greeted her with little touches to the shoulder, squeezes on the arm. She’d gotten accustomed to those friendly touches from certain people, but it was strange to receive them from so many others. There was a vaguely ceremonial feel to the flow of people, touching her, greeting her, then leaving The Spruce. By the time she finished her breakfast, the dining room was mostly empty.
Being accepted by the pack <3
