Firefly Glen And if you tell the world a secret

tags are for reference, wanted to catch her up and fill in the time.  All welcome! (And as always, lmk if anything needs changed)

The hunt had ended a while ago and Bridget, though curious, had elected to stay on the mountain.  She was new enough to still be settling in, she’d wanted to keep @Sialuk company, and @Treepie had seemed both unwilling to go and devastated to be missing out.

The girl was a little bit of an enigma.  Bridget couldn’t sort out the reason for her reluctance to leave the Moonspear but never pressed about it.  First, that definitely wasn’t her place.  But also, most wolves had a lot of reasons for the ways they were and the things they did.  And usually those reasons weren’t things they could be convinced out of.

Over the course of the week, instead, Bridget had asked for her help organizing the stores she’d collected and in gathering more of the plants that could be found in the territory.  She thought maybe, working together, she could keep her mind off of the event altogether.

Today, though, Bridget found herself nosing about the Glen.  The traces of those who visited were faint, but she caught a few familiarities.  Moonglow.  Brecheliant.  A couple of others whose names escaped her.  Shit, it must have been quite the contest.

There were still signs of the hunt about too.  There wasn’t enough left for a meal, but scavengers still picked over the remains.  She watched, contemplating, without driving them off.  It reminded her of Teya and her daughter, back when they’d taken their trip to the place with the ravens.  Without really having an explanation for why, Bridget sat down to continue watching for a moment, awash in nostalgia.  Ravens were messengers, her dad had always joked.  Maybe she just thought she’d heard something.

Adrian didn't count the days since he'd left the tundra for these better lands. One by one they dissipated like snow hitting warmer ground and with them, the grief that had squeezed his heart like a thorn without flower. It withered and fell away and in its place, new life grew. 

Some would call him reckless, others, a fool, and at first, it had mattered. But with every step, their voices died alongside the solemn missing of those he knew he'd always miss, but couldn't afford to if he ever wished to find that something more he longed for. It was out there, somewhere, he just knew it, and he'd find it, some day.

He'd just needed to get away.

Adrian followed the voice of scavengers, their incessant caws marking the way to a quick and easy meal. It wasn't dignified, but it filled him enough, and he was thankful to those wolves who had hunted first and had left enough for vagrants like him to glean.

At times, he'd find other predators around, and on those days, he often went hungry. Rarely did he find another wolf. But as he entered the Glen, he wondered just what he'd walked into.

Had it been a celebration? He'd never smelled so many fading scents in a place at once, nor seen such indications of a grand feast, not even in all his days in the tundra! Adrian marveled at it, and it drew his heart immediately into such a sharp wanting for more -

Who were these wolves?

Where did they live?

What might they think of the likes of him?

- that when he caught sight of a blonde gal resting within the winged throng, Adrian didn't hesitate to call out to her -

Were you part of what happened here? his voice wondrous and playful. The thought of merriment put him in blissful mood! Or are you queen of these ravens?