Firefly Glen change, change will preserve us

It was a delightfully strange sight. Wolves smearing unsuspecting grass with violating filth. The squishy texture of the sinking mud- uncouthly therapeutic.

And, for just a moment
collectively tossing
aside the unwanted filth-
she felt
-clean-
 
Her ears perked at the sound of her name as her face flushed. However, the momentary shyness soon subsided, replaced with diversion coated with a hint of delight. Glancing back over at the snorting sludge-ball, Tabriëlle couldn’t help but to smile.

Smiling turned into staring as she watched the stout she wolf proceed to grab the larger, athletic wolf by his scruff and yank him out of his sinking predicament. They must be packmates. Maybe of relation?

After Toad had finished moving the male, she looked to Tabriëlle. Tabriëlle instinctively inched away, as if suggesting that she thought Toad might grab her by the scruff as well and yank her along. “Hello Toad Amelia,” Tabriëlle half-squeaked nervously. She cleared her throat, “pleasure to meet you- Bronco.”

Hurriedly, she pushed forward through the sludge-pool and ruffled her coat before taking a sitting position beside the two. “The Glen?” she repeated, looking around curiously before returning her attention back to Toad. “I have traveled far in search of- refuge,” she paused and looked over at Bronco, her body stiffening. She watched him for a solid minute before continuing. “My previous pack land was consumed by fire. So many of the wolves dead or misplaced.” Her voice was sad, but a bit louder than before. “Is there a Glen Wolf Pack?” Tabriëlle asked.