Hoshor Plains on the forefinger of an alderman

A shadow travels toward the bison, lithe and powerful. It reminds her of her grandson—of herself—and she blinks, intrigued. Once upon a time, she might have joined him in his hunt. Now, she is content to watch. She is much too old for a buffalo chase.

But could this be another Melonii? She is torn between letting him slip away and giving a chuff, but scaring the herd in the process. Megara shuffles her paws in uncomfortable fashion, emotions rippling across her face like film reel flying by. Perhaps he will notice her before a decision has to be made.