Firefly Glen So, we party when the sun goes low

Midday had quickly become late afternoon, and Simmik knew she would need to return to the forest soon; she still wasn't too keen on being outside the borders by herself after dark. The defiant, self-sufficient side of her personality balked at the self-made curfew, assuring her that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. But the more grounded part, the newer part of her personality that had slowly started to form with some experience, had reminded her of her unfortunate run in with a not so nice stranger and of her various packmates that had been attacked with allegedly no provocation and she knew it was just better for everyone if she didn't wander too long outside their forest after dark. She still had time though. Luckily she wasn't too far from from home. She wasn't done exploring the glen. Snow still painted the valley white for the most part, something she didn't mind at all. Her thick coat kept her warm and her large paws helped her traverse through any thickly covered area. 

She lingered here because the fresh scent of prey had filled her nostrils as she made her way deeper into the field. She periodically stopped and lifted her head to scan her surroundings, looking for both the source of the tantalizing smell and potential danger; she failed to see either each time she checked, the lack of the former becoming more frustrating the longer the scent clung to the inside of her nostrils. She was persistent, though, and she continued her slow combing of the glen, searching for something she knew was most likely unobtainable even if she were lucky enough to find it.