Firefly Glen but when i go to sleep at night, don't you call my name

she scoffed. men—always so demanding. for that matter, always demanding you show them something. "you'd like that wouldn't you," she muttered under her breath, sidling the cool earth at a whispered pace.

she timed her movements with the susurrant sounds of the tallgrasses when it blew her scent away from him. her intentions were to let him talk himself in circles like a scaregrow godsent the gift of gab—she hadn't paid enough mind to his command to notice the youth limning his chords—and exit downwind in the meantime, through the highlands, hopefully to find lesser ranged paths.

however, midstep she stopped and thought for a moment. i know you're there, he'd said, which confused her, because he'd made such knowledge clear from his first outburst. she had to bend an ear to catch his soft you don't scare me, before the realization struck that this was no man, but a boy playing warden.

the ensanguined woman bore up her frame and sat several yards away, expression inscrutable but her voice flatly ridiculing. "well. seems to me you're doing a fine job of scaring yourself. why interfere?"