Firefly Glen Eòlach

A strong pace had carried Kinloch across several territories. His breathing was strong. His back tingled from the constant touch of the sun, most prominently on the darker stripe that ran from his head to his tail. The man had run his course for the day and he sought somewhere to rest his aching paws. 

The glen was thick with greenery. Foliage had gone wild in the heart of the territory. Streams trickled through the land, cutting through some of the rougher patches of brush. Kinloch stopped to drink at each one he found. 

A spotted bird chirped at him from the trees. The pale wolf lifted his gaze to meet the feathered animal.