Anchor point

The blue rain fell like memories, each drop carrying whispers of ancient battles and older promises. Bruce Cameron felt it soak through his clothes, each droplet seeming to pull at something deep in his blood. Around him, the clan elders shifted uneasily, their wolf natures fighting against an older, deeper call.

"Graham," Bruce commanded, his voice cutting through the whale-song chorus that filled the air, "get to the security center. Lock it down. We need those barrier symbols active." As Graham turned to run, Bruce caught his arm. "And find out what's happening at the naval base. If Myrtle's meeting with the commander wasn't just a distraction..."