Kapra performed his part of the ceremony admirably, and Katja pressed her nose first to Kapra's forehead, then Laufey's, with a surprising tenderness. This was the core of why she had chosen the life she had, why she chose to revive Yfir again and again despite all the adversity and hardship it had brought to her. Her family, or what was left of them. Kapra and Laufey, and now Lyndvarr and Lærke her sister's children. They were few, yet, but with the gods' favor they would grow. Now Laufey's children would be raised Finnvi, as they should. Raising her face, stained with the blood of the sacrifice and electrified with fanaticism, she swept her gaze over the assembled pack, taking them all in. All the strong, the clever, the cunning, they were what kept Yfir alive. Without them the Finnvi would still be scattered and in danger of being wiped out.
Instinctively she raised her muzzle to the sky, to the stars, and sang out a long, low note, the howl to welcome new pups to the pack as old as wolves themselves. Laufey was no pup, but in finally claiming his birthright, in opening his eyes for the first time as Finnvi, it was as though a new life had entered the world, and she raised her voice in an ancient, feral celebration. Other voices joined her, even amongst the pack - she could hear young Kassander Xanilov's deep baritone join with hers, and she felt a pang of regret that she had never revealed her growing feelings to Raisa - that they had never had the chance to raise the children together as they might have. Would life have turned out differently for Kassander, for Sigmarr, and Valeriya, and Sindri, and Svetlana, had she not made the mistakes she had? As the song tapered off into silence, she accepted that regret and set it aside.
"May the gods join us in celebrating our first raid as a pack," she spoke simply, then to signal the end to the ceremony she stepped aside to allow the pack access to the sacrificial stag to feast. Her leg wound, reopened from the hunt, was hot and painful, stiffening up from sitting for so long, and a bone-deep ache spread through her body. She was, she admitted to herself, beginning to grow old, and she was feeling the pain of her wounds far more than she once had. She would lay here, to the side of the pack, and simply watch while the younger wolves cavorted.
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