“Oh, no, no, no...” the distress that covers her voice is no small amount, yet still quiet in the small space of the restaurant as Demet digs through her pockets. But no matter how many she empties out, it becomes clear that the small ring box is gone. (She cannot say entirely what possessed her to carry it around with her again, rather than sit in the dark drawer that’s been it’s keeper for the past year — only that Safiye’s wedding had stirred something in side of the werewolf. Something that couldn’t quite let go of the past, no matter how much she knows she should.) Demet twists in her seat to the woman at the table closest to her, blue eyes tinged in desperation. “Excuse me, you haven’t seen a ring on the ground anywhere, have you?” ( @adelaoswynn )