Donnie’s doing his daily rounds, checking his squirrel traps with his pocket knife at the ready. He hates those poor little creatures, he gets a kick out of making them squeal when unleashing his frustrations on them. He’s always been a bully and a brute, preying on the weak and defenceless.

By the time Donnie makes it to his last trap, he’s feeling dissatisfied with the lack of squirrels he has found today. He crouches in the dirt, hoping to catch the sight of a bushy tail or a pair of beady eyes glaring up at him. Instead, he finds something completely unexpected.

A warm flickering glow reflects in the depths of his dark, hostile gaze. At first he reckons a firefly got caught in the trap but upon closer inspection, he realises it’s unlike anything he’s seen before.

The tiny little thing - no bigger than the length of his hand - bats her stain glass like wings wildly as she furiously throws herself against the bars of the metal trap. She sounds like a copper wind chime caught in a storm. A halo of glittering dust radiates from her bare, glowing skin.

Donnie leans in closer, his lips twitching into a cruel smirk as he taps tip of his metal knife against the cage, just to watch her jump.

“Well, ain’t you just the prettiest little firefly.” He chuckles darkly, blowing a plume of cigarette smoke directly towards her.