Hoshor Plains easy

visible from yellowstone borders, not crossing!

following the tall mountains in the periphery of the flatlands, her first strides of freedom have been nothing but like tripping gleefully in seven-league boots. 

the yearling’s head was abuzz, a beating cicada hum, as spring unfurled around her. jordan didn’t mind trading beech trees for wide open expanses, the canvassing plains were just a well-placed allusion to her new life.

no more bit players and no more beech trees.

watching as a covey of grouse went routinely through the grass reminded her of her cousin’s made-up tales of the grouse thicket king and how he almost damned all life in the hollow for stealing all the berries. it was only when her cousin realized she was staring at his skinny arms gesticulating about his head did he stop and plant them as if shoving them in pockets, suddenly self-aware.

she felt a little bad as his mother had just passed that week, and he was just tiring out his little heart anyway he could out of grief, but god. he was incessant.

the girl jumped the little covey, kicking them up in dust clouds and switchgrass, laughing as the covey exploded in an inelastic collision.

the wrangler patrols the borders with more vigilance than he had before, storm eyed and ready to sink his teeth into supplant flesh of those who dared to trespass. previous incidents where he'd let them go burns beneath his skin like an itch he wishes to remedy; and because the horse herds that also called the plains have begun to both rut and give birth.

though he is unsure where they stand with the horses, which appear to be wary if them than the bison, he loops them beneath his protection with no intention of hunting them.

it is the outcry of grouse, the small eruption of them as they take to the sky all at once lasso's in arktos' attention and his course alters, path intersecting with the cause.

laugher drowns out the protests of the birds and arktos' gaze zeroes in on the woman draped in a soft myriad of colors. a low chuff leaves arktos' lips to announce his presence, steps slowing upon his arrival.

what she did not expect to witness descend on her, was a man as large as this. with a long, practic gait that accommodated a one-man regiment, the girl could've sworn it was two infantry soldiers in a black and blonde trench coat.

jordan clued into the wolf scents he brought along with him. maybe the would descended in a less frightening collegiate manner.

or form a (literal) landmark case against her. with teeth. 

so maybe she should practice giving more thanks. "oh, erm, hello," her face was imitative of a child getting caught sticking their unwashed hands in the cookie jar, "hope i haven't intruded your ... very, very lovely home. i was just asking your neighbors about the best places to eat down here." 

she chuckles wryly.

arktos isn't worried about the birds. they would unsettled for a while, but they would return soon enough; in a few hours mostly.

if you were trespassin', we wouldn't be standing here talkin'. it's a small chuckle that presses past arktos' lips; dark and mirthless. his presence would've been announced by the sound of his footfalls at a run and the rend of his teeth into flesh.

doesn't look like the grouse were too eager to talk, arktos observes, drawing in a breath and with it, her scent. there's a small roost of pheasants a little further west, he gestures with his muzzle. and plenty of fish in the streams.

she laughs awkwardly to concede with the awkward air that fell around them, silently kicking herself in the shin for that embarrassing display. the teen nods her head discriminately to every word the man tells her, even the ones that don't need nodding too, slipping in a — oh, that's nice — twice.

they felt like two neighbors, poking their heads out of their house when avoiding each other failed and they were forced to comment on the weather.

she is desperately trying to find a way to save herself.

"that's great! i've actually been traveling ... somewhat alone? ha ha, for awhile, you know, my brother was with me for a bit but we went our separate ways ...," she begins, floundering around the point. "i stuck out on my own to find a new place to be from. i'm guessing you live here with your family ...?"

arktos gets the impression he's not really being listened to. though it causes a soft swell of frustration within his chest, there was naught he could actually do about her attention span. she wasn't trespassing and wasn't one of his wranglers. he'd offered her alternatives in case she was hungry — which was what he'd assumed — what she chose to do with those alternatives offered was up to her.

but he realizes he was perhaps wrong, in her next words. a bit of too much information. was she nervous? he sorts thru what she gives him settling on: a new place to be from as the most important piece of information.

i lead yellowstone beside my wife. we claim these plains. he tells her, gauging her reaction.

regretfully forcing her exit because i finally understand what to do with this character lol

a hot wind blustered through her fur, she became acutely aware she was facing the wrong way. his rigidness made her feel as if she was dancing on coals to make this guy crack a smile out of pure niceties.

well, i won't impede on your family unit. um ... salut! a wrongfully worded goodbye, plucking herself away from anymore conversation and into the barreling plains.