Noa and Adelaide
There’s a whole crew of Dogs to Noa’s left that are howling at the moon, honest to god howling, like wolves. Heads thrown back, throats exposed, bodies bent backwards into arches. It’s a sight. But their noise is swallowed up in the rest of the party, so she doesn't hear them. It’s like watching a silent movie, all action and no sound as the men bellow into the sky. It's not a new scene.
“Come on, darlin!” One of them hollers in her direction, over the noise, beckoning her to join them. “Jonny ain’t here to do it with us, you’ve gotta!” Jonny would have been in the center, leading the show, winking at her once he had yelled his throat raw. But Noa isn’t easily coerced, and she’s not going to howl no matter how happy she is.
Instead she crosses her arms, cocks a hip out, and calls back, "Not tonight boys!" With the barest of smiles on her face, because she knows they won't take it personal, their eyes are already looking past her to someone else. Someone that she mistakes for Zhenya at first glance because of the way the flames reflect off of red hair, but on second inspection she recognizes as Rodeo's baby sister.
"She ain't going to do it either," Noa interjects before the men get any real ideas to try and ensnare Adelaide into their drunken revelry. Then she flicks her eyes to the redhead, and relaxes her stance a little as she says, "You don't strike me as the type."