Lake Rodney I call you now to tell you I'm thinking of you.

Of all the cubs their parents bore, it was to Akavir that Viinturuth felt most strongly bound. Their bond was unbreakable one - the ghost, though greatly tempted by the allure of his brother's mate, had put distance between them to maintain the strength of it. And oh, how he'd missed him! To come together with him again, despite mysterious and solemn circumstances, was like a balm to unseen wounds.

He did not ask for the reason behind the pain that Akavir carried, because it would come when he was ready to share. For the time that the shadow held his tongue, Viinturuth listened quietly to the downpour all around them: the sound of water on water, on the ground, the distant rumble of thunder that boomed over ashen clouds.

When at last a confession came, Viinturuth withdrew from the gesture. His eyes, wide with disbelief, sought pearlescent gold for confirmation and saw it swim within their depths.

Ibis was dead.

How? It was all he wanted to know in that precise moment, but to ask that of a widower seemed inappropriate. Viinturuth bit back the question, but the second spilled forth into the space between them with urgency: "Arielle and Lilitu?" The pups, not quite children anymore, but still very much so in his memory of them. Constantine's mother tongue, rusted on his own, failed him then, "where are they?"