Firefly Glen amidst the mists and fiercest frosts

There was nothing to be said for Osiris’ confidence. It was a trait that his brother possessed that set him leagues apart from others. That self-assured manner had always proven to be something of a challenge to battle, but the shade did not believe that his sibling was any worse for it. One day, he believed that his emerald-eyed kin would do remarkable things.
 
The dark wolf paused, lowering his crown toward the earth to drink in its scent.
 
Osiris was right – there was a peculiar aroma near them. Atlas lifted his head and turned sharply toward the thicker part of the glen. “Coyote perhaps,” he remarked in a dull rumble. Realizing just how quickly his littermate had picked up on that shift in scent, the shade turned to him and regarded the other boy with an intent stare.
 
“Your senses are keen, Osiris.”