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The hours before moonrise were always the worst, playing footsie with how long to wait before everyone should go to the otherworld, fighting symptoms of the animal waking up, the forced compulsion to shift that still rattled her bones nearly a year after becoming a moonwalker. But Lily never particularly minded it, mostly because it was a time where the pack came together and suffered as a singular unit, bound together by their strange ability to be furries once a month. It was completely and totally bizarre, but that's just how family worked, right?

Except now a pivotal part of her family was missing from the group text, the meetup plans, was hiding away at home because something had literally pulled the moonwalker out of her bones. It was a concept that unnerved Lily beyond belief--it wasn't like losing a limb or a sense, it was losing something deeper, something core to her identity. It was like a death in the pack, and Lily had no idea how to be supportive when her mind was running the process of grieving.

How could there be a pack without a pack mother?

Lily was planning to meet up with the others in an hour and a half, somewhere public with plenty of entrances to the otherworld, but she had other stops to attend to first. First, she had to get groceries, and then it was time to pick up Jamie for his monthly carpool to their Moonwalkers Anonymous meeting. Most of the ride she spent in silence, except when she made a turn off of their regular route, murmuring, "Hold on, this'll take just a sec."

She stopped her car at the lawn of the Fitzpatrick-Townhome home, reaching behind her seat for a full-sized watermelon that she'd buckled in. "Umm, you can come with if you want," she shrugged over to Jamie, her lips pursed tightly so that she could fight the frown she wore in her mind. This was heavy stuff, too heavy for Jamie, but he was technically an adult and she wasn't about to tell him how to make his decisions.

Dressed in something black and oversized, Lily clambered out of her car and up the driveway to the house, watermelon crooked under one arm. She knocked at the door then stared down to keep from staring up, where she might have seen trees or a particularly enticing awning to climb on. She needed to keep focused. She had a melon and a rehearsed line of support to keep track of, it was too late to turn back now. Just a quick gift, and then moontime.

Leila answered the door.

It took a moment or two to parse who she was looking at, but then she went, "Oh... oh! You're here for Eve, right? Hi!" Her eyes darted a couple of times to the watermelon, but she didn't say anything about it yet just in case it turned out to be some kind of snack for the trip. She didn't know how the full moon s**t worked past the basic details, honestly. "I wasn't sure if... well, come in. She's here."

The living room and dining room weren't separated by anything besides paint colors, so Eve was easy to find with a quick glance around: she was sitting at the dining table, resisting the urge to chew on her pen as she glared down at a mid-1990's page of Renard's old planner. One thing about losing the fox's senses is that she'd regained some focus. Right now she was engrossed enough not to hear who was at the door.

"Oh, hi..." Jamie greeted Leila in return, "Thanks." It was hard to be talkative at a time like this. As someone who lived with Eve and likely knew her better than anyone, he assumed Leila would understand.

During the short trek into the house, he stuck close to Lily's side, but only until he saw Eve at the table. Lily may be holding back, but Jamie definitely wasn't. It was in his nature to be far too emotional, even if sometimes it did him more harm than good. This would be okay, right? They wouldn't mind? Surely Eve wouldn't, at least. It wouldn't be any different than any other time she and Jamie met.

Without a word he closed the gap between them and threw his arms around her. The lack of pack touch was like a slap to the face, but it didn't do a thing to change the way Jamie felt.

Lily let the melon into Leila's hands effortlessly, her eyes still on Eve as she shrugged. "I mean, originally I was just gonna bring a honeydew because that's, like, more travel-sized, but I didn't want you to think I was only halfway committed to providing some nutritious cheer." Her head swiveled towards the kitchen and she blinked at Leila, trying to figure out how she'd just spoken without her mouth, but ultimately she shook her head, electing to ignore it.

"It's...umm...about two hours to go," Lily continued awkwardly, closing the distance. She walked to the side of Eve opposite Jamie and knelt, leaning her head against her packmom's shoulder. The lack of any sort of warm feeling felt cavernous, and Lily let out a ragged sigh that was in no way or shape the beginning of a sob.

"I wanted to see you," she admittedly lowly, one of her arms reaching over for Eve's hand. "Everyone else sucks and they don't know what they're doing."

As an aside, she glanced up at Jamie, biting her lip. "Well, not Jams I guess. He's cool."

Eve took Lily's hand and pulled her in closer as she did so, and she stayed quiet a moment to enjoy her pack's company with half-lidded eyes. "I know it's not the same," she said, her voice low and honest. "But I'm still so glad to see both of you." Then she gave Lily's hand a gentle kiss, and did the same for Jamie's forehead. If it weren't for the oncoming moonrise and the work she had to do, she would have happily stayed with them like this all evening.

As it was, she did let them go. Eventually. Eve was a little sad for it, knowing there'd be no time spent together shifted to come after. "We're hoping this isn't permanent," she said. "Ezra's sure of it. I'm still not sure I can believe it, myself."

Lily and Jamie had likely heard of Ezra.

Beneath the kiss, Jamie's forehead warmed and his cheeks followed suit, lighting a faint pink. Affection was always welcome, always reassuring, and though it couldn't eliminate the worry entirely, he knew things would be okay with time. Eve was still part of the pack, just like Lily said, even without her powers. That wouldn't change.

"I think he's right," Jamie said, standing up straight but lingering close. His hand never left Eve's arm. "It seems kinda like... anything is possible with the right direction. If there's anything I can do to help-" Though he trailed off, his determination was obvious in the way he stood up straighter. Even more so in the way he wiped beneath his own eyes. It didn't help that Lily was misty, whether she wanted to admit it or not. Jamie was a crybaby and boy was he easily swayed to tears. Still, it proved how much he cared, how much he believed, and how much of himself he'd invested in their group.

He bumped lightly against Lily's side. "We've got your back..."

Lily snorted. "Feelings are overrated," she said glumly, picking at the splitting edges of her nail polish. She moved to sit down, but stopped and made a face, actively fighting the urge to push the chair aside and climb on top of the table. It was a constant thrum in the back of her head, a nagging reminder that they only had so much time before they needed to go.

Her hands gripped the back of the chair next to Eve's, and with a concentrated effort she slid it back and sat down. "I'd kill for a Pellegrino for the road," she said, looking at Eve and then down at the charts, idly curious. "You been busy with some...next level crosswords or something?" She didn't recognize the handwriting, or most of the symbols, but it didn't seem out of the realm of possibility that it was some huge puzzle. Eve seemed like the sort of person to enjoy puzzles, she was clever like that.

Eve retrieved her phone to text Lily's requests over to Leila, who reappeared after a moment with two cans of Pellegrino (one for herself). Instead of coming to sit with them, though, she elected to attend to her laptop on one of the sofas. Probably grading.

"I'm not following it either," Eve confessed. "Remember in the Void, when Renard promised me an explanation for his actions? This was what I received. It's one of his journals." She turned to another page: instead of a confusing chart it had a list of materials cramped up next to a bit of pessimistic news about a friend's health declining.