Firefly Ravine I was following the,

A song sung in his heart laying here at the edge of the ravine, watching the little living stars dance over the grass in a way so removed from their world. He wondered what it was like to have so little to do, other than flit about and light the way for others. Or did they light the way for themselves? Or did they simply shine to shine? The thought was a curious one, intriguing and as fathomless as the ravine seemed to be: deep, but not endless. Eventually, he would reach a point where he would wonder no longer, either because he found an ansswer or because his interest died away.

He had yet to reach that point this night, paws dangling over the ledge as his head rested upon them, tail twitching lazily every once in a while. So intent was he upon the little creatures that he did not immediately notice the one who neared, who also stared down as if enraptured. A faint glow lifted, illuminating her face, allowing his eyes to trace the curve of bone and fur alike. Hedonist and heathen alike, Stjornuati was no stranger to the pleasured thoughts that flit through his mind as though a little lightning bug, though he would not act upon them. No, instead he lifted his head to watch her, silent and stoic as he was always.