The young boy pranced along the fields happily, still not used to the sudden speed he'd gotten from his long limbs. But then—

'LUUGGHHH!' The young boy immediately skidded to a halt, his fur bristling in shock. He could recognize the voice as one of his nieces—but god, which one?! There were too many to keep up with, and he had no chance of recognizing any of their voices.

And then, down came Illithya, landing gracelessly upon the ground. The fireflies dissipated, and so did Lugh's excitement, replaced instead with nerves. Illithya?! His ears fell back. Err, are ye alrigh'? The question was answered not by a confirmation but, rather, a blabber of words that he, at first, had quite the difficulty understanding.

Lugh shook his head and sighed. I'm not trynna eat 'em! I was just lookin'. He turned back towards the darkening fields—the fireflies remained flickering, albeit further away. Illithya, lookit! Ye scared 'em away! He huffed with a displeased scowl, lips downturned in dismay. An' they're fireflies, not star bugs. The young boy spoke with a know-it-all tone.

Here, c'mon. Ye can watch 'em with me, but ye gotta be quiet. His voice was insistent, still carrying the near-condescending lilt that it had before. He trotted over the blush-hued grass back towards where the 'star bugs', as she called them, were chased off to.