Golden Glade die with memories, not dreams

it was jhala who arrived first, her gaze warm but cautious as she eyed feyre and the stranger who accompanied her. "feyre, who's this?" she asked, her eyes holding still to the man. was this a friend? a mate? a lover? juicy, jhala thought, though she kept herself from smirking. her gaze studied him, curious. she assumed he was here to join, and feyre's word or not he'd have to prove himself. jhala wasn't making the same mistake they made in the grotto-- she wanted loyal followers and tough warriors. she would not be pushed around, and neither would her wolves.