The portraits continued to animate around us. Thousands of dead wolves trapped in golden frames. All bound to Luna's service. All slaves even in death.
The Keeper gestured toward the depths of the Hall. "You have paid tribute. You may proceed. But know that every step deeper brings you closer to the ancestors who will test your worthiness. Who will judge whether you deserve to survive when they were condemned to servitude."
I started to move forward. But one portrait blazed brighter than the others. The gold frame glowing so intensely it hurt to look at.
A woman stepped partially through the frame. Not fully manifesting like the Keeper had. But present enough to speak clearly. To be seen clearly.
She was ancient. Far older than any wolf I'd seen in the portraits. Her features were worn. Weathered by time. But her eyes were pure silver. Blazing with the same light mine carried.
"Stop." Her voice commanded. "Do not proceed until you have been recognized."
