Dragoncrest Cliffs for day is near, the moon is set

The strapping young Beryl sat in a huddle with his littermates, conspicuously away from Njord and his little lover. The sight of Chacal standing up with their mothers filled Sobo with various warring emotions. He knew her better now and knew that she was good for Sapphique. Surely she deserved it in her own right.

But he glanced sidelong at his sister, and still believed that it should have been Mireille, that Chacal had been gone too long for this honour to be hers so soon.

He knew it would never be him or Loko. He had not come to terms with it, exactly, but it was easier to swallow these days. This was their lot in life. But it would have been easier still if it was her.

His eyes skimmed over the others — the unfamiliar grey she-wolf, the pair of younger boys whose fathers had both seemingly vanished — gauging their reactions before swivelling back to Erzulie. His face remained impassive throughout, but he lifted his voice with the rest of the pack and tried to act like he was proud.