Rising Sun Valley Entrance to Nevada

Zoratto trotted ahead of Rhanno, his eyes searching for any sign of...anything. This land, however soft, was painfully dull. Even the mountains looked boring and devoid of life. Zoratto did not have the years of experience that Rhanno had; he had not outgrown the strong religious ties the Dotharan had to the bison herds. If he would ever outgrow it, he would not know. But regardless, he felt uneasy being in such a strange land without the familiar scents of home. He would gladly sell himself as a slave if it meant tasting bison again (a hyperbole, he would never do that).

The red-eared boy sucked his teeth, defiant. Sjek wux vucot nomeno khalas geou ti qe tenpiswo, hak kii re wux wiilirkir nomeno gazziz? The boy hissed, his fangs bared back at the old man. With that, he ran ahead of him, his long legs devouring the ground beneath him as he expelled his anger the best way he could. This old bastard was pissing him off.

He stopped and wheeled around, waiting for Rhanno, but when he saw the man had paused, the gray-green eyed boy ran back. He laughed when he heard Rhanno's declaration. Wux? Khal tenamalo? Kwi, tagoa batobot tawurada zyak algbo annyo tairais. He rolled his eyes in full view of Rhanno. He remembered watching as Rhanno's son took control of his whole entire khalas from underneath his nose, then kicked him, his mother, Navi and Zoratto out. It brought him such joy to see Rhanno taken down so low, even as he was cast out with him. Svabol lyrik dotharan tir wux ocuir tenpiswo, besides ve? He chuckled. Vur svanoa tir wux vucot batobot nomenoi kaldakai renthisj hesi ooble?