Firefly Glen I've been looking at the stars tonight

June's unusual ability to detach her emotional self from the mourning and emotion of her father's passing causes it to manifest in other ways. The coltish sylph has found herself itching with the desire to wander far and wide, evidence enough that her true passion for it hasn't been diminished by her time away from Silvertip, and soon enough she heeds her feet. She sets off away from the mountain in the early morning and has gone many miles by the time the sun begins to set.

By then, the childlike June is deep within a glen whose vegetation in the height of summer must blot out the light entirely. It's still sparse with new growth from spring's beginning, though, so the burnished light of sunset does sneak into the glen, but it doesn't prevent the winking light of fireflies from drawing the yearling's attention. One lightning bug drifts past her nose and her fiery eyes cross as she focuses on it, tail waving with a bout of excitability. "Oooh," she sighs dreamily, lifting her head to catch sight of dozens of fireflies rising from the grass and mulch of the glen.

@Panther

vague post is vague

Panther wandered around more than he didn't, and sometimes in such a daydreamy stupor that he would often lose track of himself. It was part of the enjoyment for him, to return to his body and realizing that he had no idea where he was or what direction he was traveling in anymore. He found it incredibly interesting to backtrack through places in which he had previously been but had no recollection of; taking thrill in the eerie sensation of jamais vu. He made a return just then— the feeling eking slowly back into his limbs as they continued to actively churn beneath him— and awareness of his immediate surroundings streamed back quicker than his cognizance of it did. He had trekked upon a girl before realizing himself.

"Oh," he breathed softly, backpedaling several light steps and replacing an amenable distance between them. "I'm sorry. I wasn't paying any attention at all to where I was going," he smiled, ultramarine eyes taking in the stark cloud with the warm fog pooling about her muzzle and ears. Panther's tail wagged, standing lankly in his alpine height, trying to be as unassuming as he felt. A firefly drew his eyes then, and the distracted wolf murmured a surprised "oh wow," as he begun to notice them all in the sunset glow.

The crunch and rustle of foliage underfoot doesn't draw June's attention the way it should. Such an innocently pure creature is she that these signs of potential danger fail to raise an alarm within, so while she becomes aware of Panther in her subconscious by his nearness, the normal reaction to being approached so openly is absent in Humility. There is no shock or fear or alarm in her. Her mind and eye both are drawn inexorably to the spiralling fireflies, her heart pure tranquility, and everything about her is serene grace as she slowly turns to face Panther. The only indication that June isn't some wise woman with a firm hold on her emotions is the way her eyes dart from the deep blue-black of the other wolf's face to the winking bugs beyond him.

Focus, she tells herself, drawing a deep and steadying breath as she studies Panther. He melds with the shadows of the glen so that his figure is indiscernible and almost spectral with the play of firefly's light upon it, his blue eyes the only tangible thing about him. She focuses on those, but then drops her gaze when it becomes uncomfortable; she has developed that instinct, at least. Panther's apology goes right over her head—she's too busy watching a firefly crawl along the bladed edge of a fern to really hear him—but his exclamation draws her attention and she glances up, eyes wide with a child-like wonder that doesn't suit a yearling.

"They're so pretty," she breathes softly, wagging her tail as she shimmer of fireflies transfixes her once more.