Firefly Glen change, change will preserve us

Osiris had happened upon the gathering by chance. He had thought he smelt an unfamiliar scent on the wind and had decided to follow his nose to further investigate. When he saw the group in the distance and spotted a tall, unknown figure, he picked up the pace to meet them. He had picked up his posture in his approach, his legs stiff as boards, and his tail flagging tall—his typical facade in the presence of a stranger. 

Pulling alongside Bronco, Osiris watched the snow-furred woman for a moment. The scent of stress radiated from her coat, and she appeared travel-worn; he wasn't sure to make of her just yet. "Hello," he greeted, his attention solely on Tabriëlle, "I'm Osiris, leader of this glen. How can I help you?"