Eric didn't look up when he felt Macklyn and the other crow approach him. The changes were flowing through him, faintly, but he could feel them. It was molding into something familiar, much like himself. Vampire and fairy. It was becoming more real and less darkness and shadows. Bran would never truly be what this new bird was becoming. Eric felt its strength. So did Bran.
You're becoming more, said Bran to the other.
I'm alive. Came the response. Bran filtered it into Macklyn's mind, the feminine tone of the words. They didn't match Bran's own. The pitch was higher, much higher in register.
What do they call you? Bran asked.
We are the same, she replied. But they weren't. Not anymore. Which meant she could no longer be Bran. She needed another name.