Fairspell Meadow Gin and kerosene

The frostkissed meadow was, as far as Dionysus could tell, undisturbed. At this late hour his nose told him more than his eyes, so he'd spent time sniffing around to be certain he wouldn't run across any other wolves. He'd found nothing.

Now he stretched out in the spot he'd claimed for himself, belly pressed against the cold ground. His ears twitched and flicked even as he settled, catching every little sound of the night. Occasionally the clouds would shift and the moonlight brightened the world around him — and when that happened, Dionysus was eager to watch whatever he could in the shadowy meadow. But each time the clouds took the light away again, he closed his eyes, nearly seeming asleep in his stillness.