Firefly Glen we will walk together until it disappears

Scorpion, small and venomous, peered up at the roguish haunter with an expression pinched by mistrust. Not this, came her steely, predictably obtuse, answer.  

His nosiness made her uncomfortable, and she concluded that it was a worse feeling than simply being chased off. At least in those times she knew where she stood. Here, between uncertain heartbeats, the fatalistic girl could not be sure. What is it you want from me? her eyes half asked, half accused.

What is it I want from him?  

At this nearness, even with only a thin bit of moonlight to help her, she could tell he was young — her age, more accurately. Had this made her pause? She glanced over his darkly shining eyes, which she thought might have been bluish, but could not quite ascertain. Was it the gaze that had pinned her? His voice enveloped her like warm smoke, as he named the area Firefly Glen; Theirs. Did the sounds he made urge her to stay?

She turned her body slowly to face him now, tentatively losing the need to keep her back half as a buffer for any suspected attacks. Despite this, she kept her chin tightly tucked, and remained slightly at an angle — ever prepared to bolt. Scorpion’s glowering persisted. Are you the leader? she investigated, at last expressing her own interests. If you are, my choice would be to try and stay.