Firefly Glen dreaming about the things that we could be.

After running into the Redhawk wolf that'd told him Peregrine was dead he had been extra protective still. His daughters luckily often hung out with the three of them (oh, and Julia at times alone, but she didn't wander very much anyway) but he was still irked to know Redhawk wolves'd linger so close. So when he was exploring the Glen and he caught wind of someone that reminded him, in scent, much of Sassafras, his hackles pricked and he felt the corners of his lips peel instinctively in aggression.

But as he came closer he noted the girl, a young girl. Not really a threat. He could set an example, perhaps, send a message, but would they really care? They were a bunch of crazy fuckers, anyway.

So he threw all of his violent ideas in the trash as he approached her on the same side of the water. "Who are you plotting to murder?" he called out in regard to her frown as he approached, with a nonchalant tone to his voice and a grin on his face. It was only after he called out he noted another wolf drinking not far ahead and he paused a step, but then refocussed on the girl.