Firefly Glen I slithered here from Eden

He moved slowly. It was evident by the way the wolf favored one of his hind limbs that it was paining him; whether that was a true injury or not, none would be the wiser. The wind pulsed at his sides, shifting every few moments like great gasps from a giant unseen mouth - and then the air would calm, for a time. It was in a moment of abrupt quiet, without the air howling across his back or whipping at his ears, that Njal managed to turn his face towards an oncoming shadow. The stranger's gait wasn't familiar, but their silhouette stirred something in his memory; Njal wasn't sure, so he only met that oncoming darkness with a narrowed gaze. By the time the stranger was close, the wind had picked up again. The old gray man simply stood there, like some sort of monument, and watched.