Hoshor Plains far horizons

Lately, he had stayed out of the usual pack affairs, preferring simply to keep to himself. There had been some sort of trouble brewing with another pack and one of members of the Plains, along with tensions within the Khalas itself. Rhanno did not care for such matters. He was not a political man, and usually sorted problems out with violence and force. It wouldn't surprise him if such troubles were worked out the same way by Rakharo — and so he would leave him to it.

It felt strangely freeing, having the pressure of being Khal lifted from his shoulders. Not that he wouldn't disregard the position should the opportunity to obtain it ever arise again but, for now, the elder was happy to revel in his rather relaxing position way at the bottom of the pack's hierarchy. A Silak, for all intents and purposes.

Early morning mist settled around the plains of their home, the long, frosted blades of grass highlighted by the sun as it began to peak over the mountains that guarded the lands. The herd of bison were beginning to stir, and Rhanno watched them idly as he lay upon the hill overlooking the field, gaze half-lidded and relaxed, wondering if he would have the pleasure of relaxing right here for the rest of the day.