Firefly Glen [BWH] Group 4 Elk's the name of the game

margarida slipped into the forming group with the hush of a tide pulling in—quiet, steady, easily overlooked. jasmine stood small but certain at the front, her strange, wild coat lifting in the breeze like the breath of some old spirit. others gathered too.

the earth thrummed beneath them. far off, caribou broke across the plains like a living river.

yet magui’s thoughts drifted elsewhere.

@Tvar...

she imagined the heavy tread of his paws beside hers, the blunt warmth of his presence, falcon darting between legs with a boy’s eager courage. she hoped he would come—not for glory, but because the hunt felt gentler with him near.

rodyn’s booming welcome snapped her back into place. she bowed her head politely as he spoke, his voice a drumbeat over the fields. jasmine, yes—she would lead them.

she then cast one last glance toward the crowd behind them—searching for a tall shape, pine-green eyes, a boy hovering at his heel.

if he came, she thought, the hunt would feel less lonely.

if not… she would run with grace enough for the both of them.