Moonspear ^__________^

His words immediately evoked a recollection of Kukutux’s recent visit. Treepie smiled at the gentle warning. She would never disturb her grandmother’s things without asking, though Pie doubted Kukutux would mind if she took a peek at the spread.

What kind of stuff? she wondered as she wandered. When’s the hunt? Are kids invited?

Pie kept one ghostly ear twisted toward Alaric even as she ventured slowly into the glen. Everywhere she looked now, fireflies drifted, their little bottoms pulsing like heat lightning. No wonder they’re called lightning bugs too, the youngster mused.

She paused in her step to just watch them for a moment. Her free ear bent at the sound of wind soughing through the treetops overhead. That strong breeze brought with it the subtle scent of rain.