Fendros breathed in to announce their company when he spotted them, but stopped short. The sight of the lycan spirits should not have been any surprise. Somehow, however, Fendros and the others had forgotten to consider the implications.

They were all struck silent except for Meesei. Jerrick had not aged a day since his death -- thankfully his appearance spared the horror of his final poisoned fate. The true dissonance came with the realisation amongst the pack of just how closer they were around Jerrick's age of passing.

For his part, Jerrick looked upon the groups streaming in through the portal with curiosity, more than anything. There was the smallest hint of a smile upon his face. He only paid close attention to Meesei when she spoke to him. At her words, he exhaled as if remembering himself. "Champion..." His voice was hoarse and unpractised. Around the edges of his face, shimmers of odd shapes hinted at his beast spirit speaking with him. "There is...no need. I knew my death was n-...near. Tell me, has the clan..." He stopped as someone caught his attention just over Meesei's shoulder. His eyes glazed over and his lips hung open.

The target of his focus was Vera. She was armed, armoured, and ready to lead just moments beforehand. But now she stood with her helmet under her arm and tears rolling silently down her comparatively aged face. She took stilted steps forward, past the pack and towards Jerrick with everything behind her forgotten. She dropped her shield before the last step and slowly reached out towards him.

Jerrick, in turn, slowly lifted his own hand to meet hers. Neither of them knew if it was right to even touch, let alone if it was even possible.