Veti stood slowly, so very slowly and silently. Some stunned and disbelieving part of the werewolf still did not know how she was able to do so, and yet she could, and so she did. The wolf said nothing, only let her slowly recovering senses return as if she were ascending to sunlit skies from an oceanic abyss. Veti knew there were hurts, agonies and losses, victories and circumstances that had changed lives irrevocably these past moments among her companions, but she could barely open her eyes beneath the weight of the silence that descended upon them all. 

Her long tongue lolling past her great long fangs, and Veti panted with exhaustion. She dropped to all fours on the ruined grounds of this ancient site as, somewhere overhead, an eagle screamed its victory cry. The long, tapering ears she had been sure were seared from her skull shot upward, tilted toward the skies of their own volition. The skin there was raw and tender pink to be sure, but even now she could feel the infuriating itch that promised crimson fur was growing over her brows, her jowls and claws and forearms, through what should have been hopelessly scarred flesh.

She did not understand how this should be, and yet it was, and Veti’s thoughts were in no condition to question whatever good the universe might still see fit to bestow.

The terrible, searing heat was gone, and now ebony-tipped claws wrapped about a strangely cool, smooth object that rested in her palm. Amber eyes gazed down toward her unfurling grasp, and she blinked, and sighed with a sadness so vast, she was sure it must have a gravitational center of its own. 

It was a fang – the Fenrir’s fang, a great black canine tooth. Veti knew instinctively that this was what Aislinn had died for, this much diminished, near diminutive artifact resting now in her clawed hand. Her talon-tipped fingers curled about it once more, pulling her fist close to her chest.

She sensed more than saw her pack about her – or rather most of them. Her great, supernaturally healing head bowed low, Veti crawled from the epicenter of the Fenrir’s death throes on all fours, palming the fang as she moved. She hadn’t the least idea where Daisy or Artie might be, nor Semyon, but the werewolf had felt the deathly cold that hovered around Thad’s comatose body. Instinctively, she padded to her lover’s side, letting the fading warmth draw her like a beacon in the darkness.

The wolf gave way to the woman, though her skin remained a livid pink, fading by the moment even as her crimson hair grew back to length it had been. [i]"Hey baby,"[/i] she whispered, somehow managing a grimace of a smile as she pulled his body into her lap, cradling him to her chest and the remnants of her tattered grey and ivory dress.

“I’m here Thad… Max… All of you, every part of you.” With the hand that did not hold the Fenrir’s tooth, Veti tenderly pushed a tendril of golden blonde hair from his face. “I love you sweetheart. [i]I always have.[/i] Like no other. Come back to me if you can. I’m here now. The whole world is still here… “

She did not bother to wipe at the tears that were beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. What would be the point? And there was no shame in them, and so Veti let them fall. “But if you can’t come back… “ Her whisper choked painfully, and the tears fell, but Veti continued anyway while she could still feel the living warmth beneath her fingers, alongside the Reaper’s deathly cold.

“If you can’t, I know you’ll be watching. Listening. Smiling and loving me still – loving [i]all[/i] of us. I’ll be all right this time Thad, I promise. It’ll hurt like hell, but I won’t waste a [i]moment[/i] of the time you sacrificed for this world. You’ll see.”

“But come back baby, if you can. [i]Please[/i] come back… “