Night fell in the Lunar Veil, though how night existed in this place I didn't understand. The White Den's walls dimmed, the internal glow fading until we were left in silvery twilight.
I sat alone near the clear pool, watching my reflection. My eyes still glowed silver. My body was still half-shifted. And I still smelled like absolutely nothing.
Across the chamber, Marcus and Lydia huddled together, speaking in low voices. Astro paced the perimeter, restless. None of them came near me. None of them spoke to me.
The scentless one. The soulless one. The thing that came back wrong.
"We should honor them." Lydia's voice cut through the silence. "The ones who didn't survive. The ones who drowned."
Marcus nodded slowly. "A mourning ritual. It's tradition."
"This isn't home." Astro stopped pacing. "We don't have pack here. We don't have territory. How are we supposed to—"
