Fairspell Meadow oh, let me be a part of the narrative

Merrit had always been calculated in his travels and patterns, but not today. Today, he had simply let his paws carry him where they would, past his usual haunts until the sun sank far into the western horizon, and the stars winked one by one behind the clouded night. Was Keen looking up at those same stars? He wondered if she wondered the same as him.

A herd grazed in the sweeping meadow below, lined with finer grace than the massive bison native to his home, and eventually, he took his eyes from the sky to watch them while he walked along the hills, and he wondered if these creatures had families, too; if they ached for each other; if they searched when one was lost; if they wept, when one was taken.

His eyes darkened, and still, he walked, and still, he wondered, and he did not realize he was not alone.