Firefly Glen Coming? - Printable Version

Galen had been enjoying the serenity of an evening alone as one best could as he waited, sniffing through hardy little winter's plants and trying to discern whether they were of any use. To him, of course, he thought, nose wrinkling a little. The pickings here were slim, but no less slim than anywhere else, meaning he came up empty. Of course, success wasn't any interest of his, he was more drawn by the game of hide and seek, even if played with nature's minute bounty.

Just as he cleared his nose of the earthy, pungent scents of roots exposed - another scent swept into his nose, a loud and happy thing. His ears tipped forward, head swiveling, mouth already opening in what was to be a jubilant call.

Luhtar breaking into view was enough to turn his focused daze into one of excitement and clarity. He was up on his paws and treading over, tail wagging behind him, As if!

He tipped his head forward, shoulder pressing aside to Luhtar's in a brotherly greeting. His voice was clear and joyous, What's kept you?

Galen's laugh was jovial, head tossed in a rolling sound. Of course, of course.

A second, quieter chuckle came as he listened to the rest of the list. The quiet air of expectation gave him the slightest pause, but not one negative, just thoughtful.

Isn't looking tough boring? He returned, by way of casual conversation - he tilted his head, a smooth sweeping gaze drifting back across the snow. He asked then, gently, How does Forneskja weather the snow?

Now, it seemed, he was just finding joy in tormenting Luhtar, who clearly agonized over his answer.

Galen laughed, taking only jest in his friend's word, before beginning to walk, gesturing with his head, a wide sweep that knocked golden fur awry. The chill was still present around them, and true to Luhtar's word, it'd stay away, given some activity. Besides, he and Luhtar rarely traveled together, and not far at that.

He preferred calmer pastures, and so curse him if his nose being a little too cold for his like was worth complaining about!

You know my nose is sensitive, He huffed, glancing off into the woods before looking back. A little glint caught in his eye, ad though he asked a mote shy, he still asked, Well. If you're doing so well for yourself in Forneskja, when will I meet your wife?

Then he paused, a surprised and then warm smile, Or husband.

For a brief, terrifying instant, they had both frozen. Galen didn't even have the chance to bristle, to start running even. I—

With a great oomph!, the two went from standing to tumbling. Galen yelped, teeth and the whites of his eyes flashing with panic. The snow drenched them both in an icy spray - and his attempts to fend off Luhtar were half-hearted, wide splaying paws and huffs of foggy breath. He dipped his head low, hiding his neck.

I yield, I yield! He cried, only playfully afraid, though it was muddled between their barks and growls; he bunched up and lurched upward, knocking the two into a sideways tumble. The snow flew, he was almost blind, just aimlessly snapping his jaws at the other's thick fur - never to hurt, just to pinch and pull.