The compound had the specific quality of a morning that had been larger than mornings are supposed to be.
Not disaster — the opposite. The ley lines were running warm and bright three hours after the amplification event, the network's harmonic carrying a richness that every wolf in Silver Fang felt as a kind of fullness in their pack bonds, a clarity in the connections that had always been present but had not, before today, run at this amplitude. Yara Chen had arrived at eleven forty-five with her clipboard and was currently crouched at the junction with a frequency recorder and the specific expression of a scientist who has just encountered data that will restructure a significant portion of her theoretical framework and does not know whether to cry or take more notes.
She was taking mo
