Hoshor Plains and yellow

Her teeth cropped at the winter grasses, rolling them slow against her teeth. Swallowtail had always been an anxious eater, eating nothing one moment and then everything in sight the next. It was an infrequent problem, probably more of an annoyance to their previous band, but she tried her hardest to suppress it.

It has reared its head some now, but even with her easily frazzled nature, she was well adept at handling her own neurotic behaviors. The bison herd they lived alongside mingled behind her, sharing words she could not understand. A few had tried speaking to her, but her tongue did not work and she merely gargled a few sounds before walking away. Swallowtail wasn’t much of a talker anyway. It was fine.

Everything was fine, she told herself.

You’re a liar, a damn liar!, herself screamed back, nothing is fine! Everything’s on fire!

It’s fine, she said back, bug eyed with fear but ignoring it.

go west young man

a bachelor he had remained, unable to secure himself the women that his ilk required to form a herd and then his childhood rival had reared up and—

kinya loped across the plains, having crossed the mountains, his heart and stomach lightened at last. 

the young man needed a new start. no doubt. he lowered his head, grazing abstractedly, waiting for some kind of—

sign

miss, he called to the red roan girl, lifting his head. come join me, away from the bison.

come join your own.