Firefly Glen fi fies

*invades* please tell me if I'm unwelcome

The land outside their little haven was vibrant. It was not one dark monotonous shade of darkness, shades of black and gray and white and purple and blue that bored him. He did not feel at home there, not with his pelt of flame and light. He knew he was destined for something more than being some spider god's plaything, and he escaped this fate by physically escaping, not fleeing back as his sister has, as Vaati so commonly did.

But the habits of the Woods takes over him, and he slips out of the cover of darkness, the deafening silence of the Woods breaking way to the screeching sounds of Wild — the crickets and night birds and bats and bugs.

He walks, aimlessly, determined to find something of note in the cloak of night. It comes to him in the forms of dancing wisps of light, waltzing, tangoing, foxtrotting ahead of him, congregating in a Glen before him. He follows, intrigued, into the neck of woods, but he isn't alone. His eyes light up at the sight of two boys in the distance, snapping and laughing. He sits, amazed at the sheer joy they have at the simple amusement.