Wapun Meadow scared money can't win and a worried man can't love

he stood out in the fanning half light as the meadow descended into muted blues. the dips and mounds of snow a grey color, and long shadows cast between them. a wind scurried across the vale in bustling cries and the last bird had since roosted before the gathering dark.

he was hungry. in silence he moved across the meadow, nose and ears to the ground.