Firefly Ravine I was following the,

"Eldflugur," Viola softly whispered, before repeating to, "Luciole," transferring to her own mother tongue. She compared the two so, finding such intriguing how far they were in words and verses, and even to English, did it differ so. There was a giddy, in feeling, how wide this world was truly, for how much wolves diversed in culture and languages.

There was a heartache that still lingered to home, but she was also just like a child to the new world. 

"They say they are fallen stars, into.. being mortel." She strung in a thick accent of french, struggling to find a rather English word to 'mortal,' though thankfully so, unknowingly, it was very familiar to the English, "they live with us." 

Her ears then flickered as she downcasted but a pitiful smile, "yes." There wasn't a point in denying so, for she was now starting to show in health, and smelled like no other. There wasn't officially any guide to where Viola should head, and moreso by the whim of adventures.