Hoshor Plains blood will spill into the gutters and it will stain the morning sun

Hoping to be recruited by someone from Blacktail Deer Plateau.
@Liri

Although the sun had long broken over the horizon, Hoshor Plains remained in solemn shadow.  At fault were the towering peaks to the north-east and a rolling grey thundercloud which loomed in the distance, its presence like a familiar acquaintence who you just knew were about to overstay their welcome.

The ironclad spectre nestled within a rustling carpet of sagebrush and beargrass, his dark eye turned upon the bison.  It was a maternal herd — entirely female — and from the state of the grasses and the size of their wallow he could estimate that there had been a time in which the herd's size had been almost too immense to fathom.

The fires had cut them down to fifty head.  Yet the rut had ended only two months ago and some of the sow were beginning to show; only time would tell if the herd could reach its former glory, but promise had not been lost entirely.

In the late afternoon quiet the sows continued to graze, accompanied only by the stirring of the grasses and the wolf hidden there within.