Firefly Glen they say no one is living here

Cavendish was, perhaps, the furthest thing from the Cerberus. He was a stranger, and he had not yet realized that his kind did not belong among the wild wolves. Still, the willowy creature was there. Something within him had urged him to remain in the strange world. Perhaps, it was that he had many things to learn there. And then again, he may have had something to teach as well. 

Were it not for the glimmering fireflies that hovered in the air, Cavendish might have seen the slate hunter. Instead, he seemed to think that he had conjured an ancient magic. This delighted the dark hound. Cavendish rose onto his hind legs and stretched the length of his frame toward the floating lights. He could not hold his balance that way for long, and dropped back to all four feet. Once on the ground, he spun in a perfect circle and finally latched his sights on the stranger in the glen.