Before the quiet, before Sacramento started to grow its own Spirit Wilds in true to name fashion, there had been a neutral place where Packs could meet without the tension of territory. Oaths, Oaths persist till the last beat of your heart. They never go away. But territory? Tur allows that tension to lift, if only slightly.
Something had called Chris there that night. It wasn't the moon though Mother is always there. Instead the Irraka just finds himself sitting on the ground waiting. Sutter's Landing Regional Park is quiet at night, this late at night at least. The dead of night when only the predators and those who think they are predators willing travel outside.
Mother Luna resides in her glory in the Waxing Gibbous phase