Firefly Glen Owl City

Ness, who spent a great deal traveling outside of her home turf, had yet to spend more than two or three days without returning home. She was on the third day of such a stint now, heading back to the mountain by way of a different route than she had gone. But nearly all routes from the east led back to Firefly Glen, a territory through which she had to go in order to reach home from that direction. She was returning with a pitiful lack of news, having not crossed a single wolf on her path during her time away— despite having followed several more recent trails— and the last two days had been spent quiet and lonely.

Night cloaked her, but did not conceal the almost painfully visible she-wolf. The ground was soft underfoot, but Ness tread lightly, prancing more than walking. It was a skill one learned growing up on the Tundra; it was a move that kept your pads from getting frostbit or freezing completely from standing too long. The fireflies were flitting about, and she was so distracted by them, she almost didn't see the dark male lingering nearby. She'd almost walked right upon him, before she noticed the movement of his shadowy body, and she jumped back reflexively— her fur on end. "Holy mother of Dumbledore, man, I could shit fire you just scared me so bad!"