Firefly Glen I wasn't there, but I know

Morwenna watched the young Anatolia, the girl's energy flaring, poised with anticipation. A gentle warmth filled her—a feeling she’d once known and longed to nurture in another.

She leaned close, her gaze softened yet steady, and breathed in the rich, earthy tones around them, letting her senses entwine with the land. First, she murmured, her voice almost a whisper, the scent. Listen with your nose, feel with it. Her muzzle tipped toward the delicate breeze.

There it was, faint and timid, almost hidden—an earthy, warm musk mingling with grass and dew. The rabbit lay somewhere near, blissfully unaware. She looked to Anatolia, her eyes steady and patient. What do you smell?