For Asriel, it was the fact that somewhere, at the bottom of the lagoon, lay a perfect skeleton.
Over the course of five years, below the surface of so gentle a body of water, he could only imagine that her remains had been treated with utmost kindness. No beast would be tall enough to tread through the lagoon's very middle and kick the bones around, and no current or tide would push them on a relentless basis. No- the moment her body had touched the bottom of the lagoon, she would have settled for a peaceful, everlasting sleep; those bones would be beautiful now, untouched, but stripped of every fibre which would have once covered them.
Asriel sat at the Southeast corner of the lagoon, having been drawn there simply to pay his silent respects, and to imagine what Malia Thorben's bones would look like now. They had been little more than pups- so the collection of bones wouldn't have even been very large. But more interesting still was the fact that once he'd come near the lagoon, he had caught the scents of two wolves who were far too familiar to ever be forgotten. Why they had left Drooping Willows, he didn't know- but it was very obvious that the two of them- his own littermates- had settled somewhere very nearby. He kept his distance, respectfully, but had allowed himself to wander close enough, just to satisfy his own curiosity.