I hoped Whisperwind's Alpha got a wake-up call, for his pack's sake. In the presence of multiple power-hungry packs, it would only be a matter of time before they were swallowed up one way or another. There was a particularly predatory look in Alpha Thorton's eyes that I did not like as his gaze lingered on the recently vacated table. But he did not speak, for the oracles had stepped forward.
I gulped. It was the moment of truth. Now that they had gotten rid of the unworthy, they began to pour moonwater into the silver-colored bowl, filling it to the brim without spilling a drop. Even the way the water moved seemed to be extraordinary, for it didn't make a single splash upon impact.
The surface evened out to form Darach's face, with an oxygen mask strapped on top of his nose and mouth. His eyes were closed, but he was in no way restful, as he struggled to breathe with the help of the mask.