When the snow of the Northern Lands fell upon my shoulders, I was bathing in the Moon Goddess Spring.
The calm water reflected my face.
It was no longer that face corroded by silver miasma, pale and gaunt.
New skin grew from beneath with a faint silver‑white sheen.
The High Priest combed my reborn wolf soul with a silver‑bone comb.
With every stroke, lunar power surged up from the lakebed, pouring into my spine, filling those places that had been empty for too long inch by inch.
The High Priest said, "Linda, you have now repaid your debt. The Moon Goddess permits you to return to her embrace."
I opened my eyes.
The Sacred Pool reflected me whole again.
The wound on the back of my neck had healed, and new silver‑white fur grew there, glowing faintly in the moonlight.
The bloodline
