Firefly Glen where the wild things are

@Anathema

The brilliant reds and oranges of sunfall provide a backlight for a distant mountain range. It is a beacon that calls, and Lómion listens. He stares towards it, hasn't broken it since the day's start.

It calls for him, but he is hesitant to answer.

Soon, he assured himself, finally blinking away as the sun is swallowed by the skyline. He needed more time.