Firefly Glen zeal without knowledge is a runaway horse

Scorpion regarded the blacksmoke djinn’s approach with the shrewd defensiveness of a snake, despite inviting his nearness. She expected to endure a necessary roughness that she would then need to temper, but Antares did not appear keen to press his boundaries. The she-wolf balked mentally and felt her expression melt from one of objective severity to soft-petaled suspicion. Her nose wrinkled up as she sniffed towards him. His decency was not something she was familiar with, though her instinct was not to reject it outright.

Since he was once more relinquishing control of their distance, the Eyjolfur no longer felt afraid that he would needlessly harm her. If he was playing a game, he was patient at it, and she was not experienced enough to know better anyway. She slithered forward, keeping her belly low and throat shielded, as she sought to inspect his guard hairs with a feathery sniff.

Her muzzle recoiled slightly. I’ve never met a pack wolf like you, she told him, frowning thoughtfully as if unable to decide if this was a preferable state or not. One who doesn’t attack on sight, I mean.