Firefly Glen new day

With the group in agreement and his suggestions taken seriously, Cypress could afford to lay some of his disgruntlement to rest. He appreciated Rian and Rannoch enforcing his words and some of the tension went out of his long-limbed, broad-shouldered frame — but it renewed itself at the approach of a wolf he didn’t know. His expression remained stoic but his sulphureous eyes were undeniably suspicious as he rose to all fours. He was watchful and protective of their band, but he stowed his interrogation as Rannoch seemed to have some familiarity with her — and Cypress hadn’t missed each miniscule flicker of the turquoise-eyed leader’s expression, though he wouldn’t be inclined to inquire about it either. Whatever this female was to Rannoch, the younger Frostfur hadn’t seen fit to share it yet, and Cypress wasn’t the type to pry. He had a significant secret of his own — a dark-furred, blue-eyed one — that he wasn’t ready to talk about, after all.

He did his best to make the female feel welcome. Working the rightmost corner of his mouth into an easy half-grin, “Hey, Liffey,” quietly came his low, even baritenor. “We’ve met, briefly. Welcome.” They had met before, but the circumstance had been far from ideal: wolverine, blood, teeth, all the bad things.