Firefly Glen cutting shapes

Finally, someone who didn't entirely take his commentary derisively. Or found his presence annoying. At least if he had, Dirge was none the wiser as his footfalls came to a full stop. Then again, he was as much of an ass as he was smug, so the jury was firmly out on all accounts for the day. But for the time being he embraced the even flow between them, not inclined to make jabs or otherwise stir the proverbial pot as he had done with others. There was a certain ease here that had not existed in places of the past — he could live with that.

"Never fancied myself much of a stargazer," he went on to say, though his gaze had not moved from the scene above. "Certainly a lot of them up there though. Moving right along above us until the sun chases them away for the day." Or maybe it was the other way around; he was hardly a skilled philosopher by any stretch of the imagination. But his present company? Well, already he had an inkling that the sterling wolf held a reverence for the night sky.

Questions burned on his tongue but instead he held onto the quiet.