Firefly Glen I know that I'm rich enough for pride

Night was settling in, coming earlier than the last had, but Antares was just setting out.

Once down the mountain, he glided into the routine of a steady jog--keeping his nose low, footfalls quiet, and senses sharp in case of anything of interest. He found that several had passed through the glen, some of their own pack, some not, others a little more fresh than lingering older hints.. though he did consider this typical, all things considered. None raised real alarm in him yet, and there was some instinctive want to ward them off should they come here to loiter too long; he had grown with the notion to consider these hunting grounds an extension of the Spear's business, after all. It encouraged him to leave markings of his own scent occasionally. Not as intently as he would work over their bordering forests of course, but to serve as a reminder that here, Moonspear always loomed.

As he moved on, the breeze hinted at more than merely a deepening chill, and this fresh new curiosity pulled his route towards the source--on until he spied pale furs up ahead. At the distance, he did not recognize them.. or the scent wreathing the winds, so he went on to close in to investigate further.

Stranger, the dark Ostrega greeted when there were only several body lengths between them. He tipped his nose with the word as he chanced another step near, plainly curious as he looked her slender form over, but carrying the poise of a neutral party--until proven otherwise.