Kari didn’t know how she was standing.
She had thought nothing could compare to the loss of her mother, to the day they had walked the processional route as the pack mourned their Luna. But barely a year later she was preparing to walk the route again, but this time it was her father who was being sent into the night sky.
The day had blurred into something half-lived, like she was watching herself from far away. People had moved around her, speaking in hushed tones and carrying out tasks she didn’t have the strength to question. All she could do was breathe, one aching breath after another, and follow where she was led.
Now, standing at the front of the pack house, she could smell the faint sweetness of the wildflowers that had been laid over the shroud. Her father’s body lay beneath it
