Firefly Ravine borðaðu rassinn minn

Like a flickering flame, Valmua was drawn to the silver arrow, pressing closer than necessary and brashly demanding an answer. Irritation flashed only momentarily in the little deer's eyes--burning amber that was strikingly complimentary to the crimson before her. 

She swallowed the instant biting response that pressed to her lips--the Northern wolves she remained with were a brash crowd--a far cry from the gentle upbringing of Morningside and the valley wolves.

Looking for medicinal plants, she returned, her small muzzle swinging down to continue her inspection. Only a moment passed when she determined the ferns hoarded nothing useful and a dainty paw was pulled to allow the weeds to fall back together, her kissing body moving past it and away from the flame. And you?