Hoshor Plains Endless

He was not a naturalist by any means. He had taken great pains to avoid any feminine activities in his youth; it was bad enough he had the hips and slender form of a woman, despite his deep, booming, obviously masculine voice. But he didn't have that voice as a child, however, but that was a different story. Despite his attempts to avoid the weaker trades, he did pick up a couple of things or two concerning the weather. At those things or two alerted him of the strange weather patterns that the Wilds had experienced lately.

As he strode through the tall grass on his way to perform his night watch, he thought about what the storms meant. Patterns in weather often meant something of the future. The boy approached the bison herd, his eyes slowly adjusting to the slowly darkening sky. They lowed complacently, laying down for the night. They had little to fear in the night besides the khalas themselves, but the night shift was in place regardless.

His mind wandering in between Azzaro and the weather. In other instances, the thoughts of Azzaro might have won, if it were not for the ominous patterns of the storms. The wolf luckily regained his focus as he nearly tripped over a wolf in the grass. His lips parted to give a sharp retort, but he remembered the woman's russet and white pelt. "Khaleesi." He stepped back, ears flattening apologetically. "Forgive me, I didn't see you."