Hushed Willows where the world is in the making

Kincaid listened attentively when he heard the other wolf had also been woken from her slumber at the witching hour. His ears flicked in irritation at the mention of the Saints, and then flew back in quiet contrition as he was brought up — he sat down as she did and gave a few sheepish whisks of his tail.

"You must be Lumiya," he decided, since this was her forest. "Well — I don't know what t'say 'bout them Saints. It's bad business. But I can ease your mind on the latter topic. I'm Kincaid. Friend of Eleuthera's. I came by to visit her and thought I'd stick around once I heard things was gettin' tense."

The fireflies were enchanting even with company to distract him. He looked back out over the little creek, wondering at how peaceful the world could seem even while their little lives and drama played out so tense and rapid-fire.

"It's a nice place you got, here," he told her, his voice a little bit wistful. "I kin see how come you all wanna stay and protect it, 'steada just pickin' up and movin' someplace else."