Firefly Glen I've been looking at the stars tonight

June's unusual ability to detach her emotional self from the mourning and emotion of her father's passing causes it to manifest in other ways. The coltish sylph has found herself itching with the desire to wander far and wide, evidence enough that her true passion for it hasn't been diminished by her time away from Silvertip, and soon enough she heeds her feet. She sets off away from the mountain in the early morning and has gone many miles by the time the sun begins to set.

By then, the childlike June is deep within a glen whose vegetation in the height of summer must blot out the light entirely. It's still sparse with new growth from spring's beginning, though, so the burnished light of sunset does sneak into the glen, but it doesn't prevent the winking light of fireflies from drawing the yearling's attention. One lightning bug drifts past her nose and her fiery eyes cross as she focuses on it, tail waving with a bout of excitability. "Oooh," she sighs dreamily, lifting her head to catch sight of dozens of fireflies rising from the grass and mulch of the glen.

@Panther