Firefly Glen now i lay me down to sleep

puzzled to find ying’s tracks in the loam, but no ying, arcturus stilled. for a moment naught stirred in the meadow save for a soft wind, which curled around his dark fur as he looked north and then south in silent consternation.

her scent came to him — insistent and yet, intermittent — like glimpses of harsh sunlight through obscuring shade. arcturus dropped his muzzle to the ragged ground, and began slowly tracking his way towards the bush that hid ying behind its quivering boughs.