Firefly Glen autumn jazz

Leta had been following his scent and bounded toward the coywolf when she saw him. CHARLIE! She yelled with glee. Things were happening swiftly here; in no time at all, the Glen would be theirs in full. It practically already was. Moving to exchange scents with her friend, Leta gushed, I—I know you were thinking of maybe going home, but, she started, and paused for a moment before pushing on, but well, what if... what if you joined the Glen, too? If you wanted? Leta would never make him, but the hope was a palpable thing. Charles was a piece of Easthollow, a part of home that traveled with her. She could not bear to see him go, but was also to selfless to demand that he stay. 

Her eyes looked for any sign of disinterest. Maybe he had come to say goodbye, but Leta willed that not to be the case. Could they not continue on this adventure in life together? Must he go? Would her mother be upset with her, for wanting Charles to stay?