Fish out of water...

"Nice to meet you Sandor!" A tantalizing clump of fireflies went by and he sprang at them once again. Whew! This was getting exhausting. Álarr sat down heavily then shook his head at Sandor's question. "No, I like to wander but I'm actually a part of a pack in the south called Legion." He gathered from the pup's question that he wasn't a pack wolf and he certainly didn't seem to smell like he was a pack wolf. Brynhildr was still at work trying to catch the fireflies, her white feathers making her appear like some sort of unearthly ghost as she dove and danced through the night. Sometimes Álarr wished he could fly. "I think it would be cool to be a bird," he said thoughtfully. Attention span always drifting he spied a plant he wanted to investigate not to far from where Sandor was fishing.