Firefly Ravine I was following the,

The man's voice was unlike any she had heard, thick of an accent that was unfamiliar, and something that was far too new for her. Her ears flickered and she had to pause fully. Viola was in such a secluded back that even outsiders were rare, much less one with such different sounding words, or even languages. She knew there was other languages out there, besides the ones she knew. French was a main, shown through but a small accent that occasionally stumbled out. She was rather thankful to gather enough English through her journey to speak with the man.

Perhaps rude, the autumn wolf snapped out of the daze of thought, "Oh, they're fireflies." 

Lifting a paw out, Viola wanted to demonstrate as so. Perfectly still as she tried, as gently did a single flicker of the light slowly fall down and caress her soft paw. Crawling over, it moved like any other fly, but glowing in a beauty, before taking off from her paw once more. She would hope he caught the sight of the insect.