Moonspear high road

The innocently posed question was answered with a shake of her head. Prey move where they will when they have somewhere to be. Little deters them; the strong survive, and the weak are culled. That is how it has always been for their breed; that is how it likely always will be. It was a part of the circle of life; the predator and prey kept one another in balance. One could not survive without the other. They never stay in any one place for long; they are always on the move. Moonspear is vast, though, and there has been one herd that has been content to wander our claim. Perhaps they will return soon, she drawled, thinking on them. The famine had taken them away, but with things turning as they seemed to... perhaps their own return was imminent. 

An ear flicked as she heard her sons question, and she looked to him with veiled amusement. Their name is "firefly". They are not on fire themselves. They get their name because their combined light reminded some wolf of a fire, she drawled. But it is a far less harsh light than that. It is beautiful, and their light carries no heat or threat. It is like... it is like starlight, she shares, thinking on them—and thinking, too, of memories with her father within the Glen. A painful pang to think Osiris was robbed of time with him; with his grandmother, too.