Firefly Glen Heat Waves

The approach of another wolf pulled Cori from his thoughts. He glanced over as a woman emerged from the dense foliage, pale and limping and very much alone. Coriander felt himself shift from his lone solemnity to the more social, animated version of himself that he wore like a mask. It wasn't voluntary, but he wouldn't have stopped it anyway. No one liked someone who was more rain cloud than wolf, after all.
A fine night for stories, He added with a lively grin, tail swaying merrily. And for friends, old and new. Name's Coriander. For the moment, he left it there, allowing the woman to decide how to move forward; a wolf with such a heavy limp would have more reason than others to be wary, and Cori wouldn't fault her wanting to move on quickly rather than stick around to chat.