Firefly Glen [PHE] sheets of empty canvas

OK, ty! I envision Paloma as not sleeping as much as she should. Probably up at nights when the royals are awake but trying to get work done and prep during the afternoons.

 

It was late in the daylight hours and she still had a bit of time before the royals would be roused from their sleeping quarters and into the light of the moon. Of course, back at home, with the mountain's cavern which they made their chambers, they could rise early without the worry of sunlight to bother. Out here, in the relatively openness of the glen, she had a bit more time to spare, she felt. 

While the royals slept in their rocky hideaway along the outskirts of the camping groups, Paloma busied herself by shaking out furs to 'fluff them up', rummaging through what was left of their herbs they had carried with them and making sure food from the hunts was at the ready for waking, hungry children. 

A break was in need and the ginger and white little woman longued out along the creek bed which snaked it's way through the glen. At the sound of another's approach, she tips her freckled nose up into that direction to see the grey agouti man. Hola, Alder.