Firefly Glen Swift

There is a quick bark-a call out to her which has the huntress stop sudden, head lifted high enough so that the river of white she wore shown through easily to see. There, she spots a large burnished man and knowing not too many of golden and brown wolves personally, quickly takes note of who it to be. 

Always such a friendly face, I see? She smiles to him as lean legs trot nearer to close the distance more quickly so. There is a new glow to him, no, a shimmer which the light would ever often catch though the glen woodland. And why now do you shimmer like a fish? Her head cocks to the side, curious. She had seen fish scales shimmer like this under water plenty but not ever on a wolf.