Firefly Glen missing you is a reptilian crawl

For the fear of moving too far from her plucked poppies, she circles the same area until her diameters brings her far enough away that she feels the pull back. The glen, which should be filled with the scent of rabbits and their mating and offspring, has proven thus far to be empty but she knows she cannot return empty handed to two hungry stomachs. She’d lived the loner life once before, albeit briefly, but suffering withdrawal at the same time as starvation had been hard enough that she didn’t want to suffer through it again. Half of her problem is equally taken care of as the poppies settle and absorb after she’d eaten them but the rest remained strong.

The shout of another, however, causes her to immediately freeze in position. Her nose pressed to the ground with nothing but dirt and grass is enough to lodge her senses from a scent that should be familiar. Her green eyes narrow and she slowly picks up her head, staring at the open field ahead of her, and then slowly does she turn over her shoulder to see a figure in the distance. A low growl rumbles in her throat but their distance is far enough that the threat is not heard by her opposition.

She stands there for a long moment, unsure what to do—there are no notes of a pack nearby but she has hardly gone any farther north than she is now. West does not move forward, narrowing her eyes to zero in on the other, and something about him is familiar enough but her legs have rooted in place. The wind blows right in her face—how convenient—and her emerald eyes widen in surprise. “Lib?” she murmurs quietly to herself and stumbles forward a few steps before she halts, remembering her legs don’t want her to go any further.