Firefly Glen But not by yourself

"Osprey," the word left his lips as he had stared out into the glen from the borders, ears perked forward. A few steps had been taken forward, and then another few, until he stood in the middle of the Glen and stared at her from afar, uttering that single word. A soft word, spoken with fondness of a friend reminiscing a friend. But as soon as the word had left his lips he realised that it wasn't her, couldn't be her. The softness in his eyes faded, the crinkles by the sides of his face faded into cold nothingness. His brow furrowed into a frown. Tail twitched tensely. He looked upon her, a King upon a traitor. Nothing more was there but the cold wrenching of the dagger in his heart upon the betrayal of Osprey's children. Of Dante's children.

Yet he could not will himself completely away from her, even though he wanted nothing more than to turn around and leave, back to the guardian's duty by the den's mouth. He wondered what she was doing here. He wondered if this was some elaborate plot devised by Rannoch and Liffey to see his children dead. He knew that wasn't a realistic thought, but still... What if it was true? He stared at her, watching what she did, finding himself unable to move.