The fireflies gradually withdrew, and Valeska breathed a short sigh of relief. Normally she would welcome a vision such at this, but after the horrible caverns from autumn, she viewed unexpected events of this flavor with a slightly more skeptical eye.

Tell us? she repeated back owlishly. But they are - they are bugs. I do not think they can talk.

But...

Could they talk?

Amaranth was the more spiritually gifted of the pair... if a stone could speak, then surely her mate would have heard its rumbling tones by now. Taking the notion far too literally, Valeska chose to trust in Amaranth's linguistic knowledge and hoisted herself up.

If your soul feels compelled to speak to the bugs, she said, Then we shall converse.

Taking charge of the situation, the little wolf thrust her head out of the den and took a quick look at her surroundings. All seemed peaceful and quiet with little out of the ordinary... barring a faintly-shifting cloud of lights twinkling mischievously in the distance.

BUGS, she called, WAIT FOR US. WE WISH TO TALK!

They seemed to drift further away.

Come, Amaranth. They are hard of hearing.

Brushing her tail against the golden woman's shoulder, Valeska took off at a brisk trot.