Firefly Glen and time breaks your heart

He blinked sharply at the use of ‘sir,’ swallowing the amusement that had begun to curl at the corner of his lips as his eyes fell directly upon her now. “Ah—Sir sounds far too gentlemanly to be used in the context of my name,” he bemused aloud—with an unshakable moral ground that did not always align with others and a firm law of ‘tooth and claw,’ ‘Sir’ seemed far too much a stretch. 'Asshole' was usually used within the same sentence, though. “Am I to call you Miss Morwenna?”

It was a gentle tease—though the somber air about her was something that maybe became more apparent at her mention of no pack. A lone wolf then, who had just stumbled upon the large hunt?

“Yes,” he clarified, uncertain if she was simply placing the name to memory or if she had somehow heard of them. The latter might not always be in their best interest. “So you’re not part of this hunt the Moon tribes have organized?”