Firefly Glen [PHE] boundless

the festivities were fading like the flickering of a dying candle, the smoke suffocating shamura's lungs and the extent of her interest in the glen. some parties had already dispersed, others gathered their goods and prepared for the trek back home. 

her own assembly was not any different, the trio of acolytes busy with rallying together their elements in bundles of dried pelts. they had concluded their labour by mid-morning and swept through the encampments that still remained for any final offers of trade. 

shamura sought to slip through the moongrove camp to leave salted meat for her artistic companion, when a scent she had not smelt since the final days of summer had boiled through. honey? curious and curiouser she lingered off the course she'd set and toward where the sweet aroma simmered.