Firefly Glen crashing out into the noise

@Drogon

the glen was pitch-black, and iliksis felt at home under the bare canopy that snarled through the frozen spears of fern and briar. he was a wolf acquitted to the night -- for reasons many -- and often times found himself enjoying his self-inflicted isolation in the interminable night.

he had already fed and was presently resting under the shade of a gnarled aspen tree. the blood of a vanquished hare still rimed his frosted whiskers, lending him an unsavory and frigid appearance. droplets of immediately iced condensation and frozen articles of meaty detritus flecked his narrow muzzle and he played with their presence with a sly and intrepid tongue.