Firefly Glen it's planting seeds in a garden you never see

Altair, like others, was stirred to wake at all the ruckus.

Groggily he tried to piece together what was happening—howls weren’t really out of the ordinary by any means, but to hear so many voices joining together so late was bewildering. It wasn’t until someone much closer to his designated sleeping spot raised their voice that the synapses fired in just the right way to remind him of what was the present and not a dreamlike state.

Osiris had left. Atlas had left. Antares and others too, they all had left for the glen and this was their cry of success over the nighttime din. His nose scrunched up at first, displeased at having been woke, but soon he found himself lifting his head from the earth to join them. It was quiet at first, interrupted by a yawn that cut him off noisily to any nearby listeners. But as soon as he had made it past a series of yawns, he joined back in with the chorus just past its apex.

It wasn’t like he could fully ignore it anyway, so it was better to join in.

And he didn’t want to disappoint any of them, either.

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