Hoshor Plains a monster is among us

though not entirely trusting enough to leave the borders, the wrangler knows he cannot chain him to the outskirts of his land. he had a wife and ranch hands to direct. and the horse herd that he'd been avoiding. the plains were large enough that it was relatively easy to stay out of their way but as yellowstone grew more established it became more pressing.

did they speak? would they understand him? there was something about them that told arktos they were more aware than the bison; which was why arktos had no desire to hunt them.

he follows their trail, not bothering to hide his presence despite the tall golden heathers that brushed along his belly and against his shoulders. he climbs a large, oblong shaped boulder, slick with rain and moss half jutting out of the earth to get a better vantage point.

@Selenia, @Fancy, @Maplesmoke

cameo for now!

the big wolf was out there, watching them. his presence sent a ripple through the herd, the voices of dissent audible to the herbivores who shared the land.

selenia's nose was up, her ears cupped, her eyes bright. she kept back to the tree-stand at the edge of the plains, keeping a large distance between herself and that prowling creature.

"silverbirch. stay with me and cedar," she instructed, expecting that it would be fancy and maplesmoke who formed the first line.

he did not like how crowded the plains had become. he also did not want the women to see him and think of weakness, so the herd stayed and maplesmoke kept constant watch rather than have the herd flee from the growing wolf presence.

having satisfied the mares by now, the role of herd-defender was all that remained for maplesmoke. still, it was difficult to ignore the rumblings of the giants they lived beside and among, and the rumor of danger grew with each passing day.

how long before one of them was hunted? would maplesmoke meet his sons and daughters in a years time? he mingled with selenia and slowly branched off, making up the first head in their front line.

stamping a hoof, posturing his might. the wolf watched them, and maplesmoke was unsettled.

the male approaches — though the word is used loosely.

arktos watches as the stallion branches off from the mare and he believes he understands something of their hierarchy in that moment. he heads the front and stomps his hoof.

a warning.

do they understand? can they? will they be willing to, even if they do?

arktos does not move from his place, warily eyeing the stallion; it feels a little like a showdown at dawn fifteen steps away, turn swiftly on the heel of your boot, cock the hammer and fire. there is plenty of space between them, ample space for him to dodge should the stallion rush him.

we need to find a way to communicate. arktos speaks, offering the words to the stallion: watching for any sign of understanding or agitation.

the wolf spoke, its teeth flashing.

the mare shuddered. in a moment she moved off, chivying her foal along with a backward glance to maplesmoke.

she wanted to stand with him, but mother's instinct was greater in that moment.