Firefly Glen moonlight danced with the silhouettes

He had guarded. He had provided. Now he roamed away from Forneskja's claim, past the pack he thought must be Moonglow. When that scent was cleared from his nose, he could taste the foreign cologne that Kinusi had worn so proudly on her pelt.

Catamaran wondered if she'd yet made it home.

Listlessness soon overtook him there in the glen. His paws wanted to eat up the ground, but he could not decide which direction to point them in. It would be unwise, he knew, to seek out the mountain pack. He was no diplomat, despite the license he'd taken to advise Luhtar on the subject. That left Moonglow firmly off the roster as well, even though he'd thought to visit the strange protrusion of the land before meeting Solharr. After all — he no longer needed to look for work.

There was work at home. In the privacy of his solitude, he still felt the need to cluck his tongue at the notion.

With a strange sense of loss, the bounty hunter turned and slunk back toward Solharr's claim.

Despite that she had been slightly taken back. Not shaken just taken back. She had sought out her father's advice and after he had laughed a little. He had explained she had come on a little strong, but assured her she was loveable anyway.

Today she was headed towards the glen. She wanted to see if anything had been left behind. Trinkets or snacks. She loved food. Honestly. Instead she found she was not alone.

And here I thought you'd stay near the deep dark forest and scare little girls. Heya Mist.