Firefly Glen Kaggik

A soft noise in his throat as he thought of what to say. He frowned in thought. A gentle peek of white fang as it poked from his mouth as he remembered.

My path was hard. My father didn't want it for me. He wanted stability, safety. He thought I was flighty and carless and foolish. That I liked danger too much. So though I understood it was my path from a very early age, it was hard to pursue. I did it though, because it made me happy, content, even with the hard times.

There had been times when he had first started out that he had gone hungry, had not learned how to properly win a meal from a pack with ease, but he had learned, he had contributed and he had grown.