Firefly Glen Why won't you chase after me?

Ah! That was too bad, but — "That would make sense," he told her, sagely: "Cortens are seawolves, through and through. I don't know what branch you might be from, but that much is always true."

He did not pause to consider whether Leonore herself was a seafaring girl. Even speaking about the mountain, he assumed it must be the truth.

The idea of company, however, set his tail wheeling happily at once. Not only had he rescued the damsel from her distress, but now she asked him to act as escort. It was deeply satisfying to see these storybook boxes checked off, and he did not mind the reality of it, either.

"Not up there, at least," he told her, looking back at the mountain. "I'm meeting up with my nephew at some point, but he's busy elsewhere. I'd be happy to have your company."

Without knowing her thoughts, he couldn't know that he was, in part, echoing them:

"I've not been to many mountains, and none like this before. I was born where there are only rolling hills as far as the eye can see. We call it the Land of Long Nights."