Meadowlark Prairie red lights

The boy was itching for a fight, and he couldn't have one on the mountain. Not a real one, anyway. Not a battle of life-or-death, with bones breaking to his bite, or the sweet flow of blood from the throats of his enemies. Then again, Revui didn't have any enemies either — no targets that were worth hunting down. But he couldn't stay on the mountain for much longer; he felt the need to roam, and departed from the mountainside before first light.

The early hours were spent investigating the bends of the Bramblewood nearby his father's claim; there were many scents among the trees, branching away to the north, but he had little interest in any of them. His path took him east until there was nothingness around him. Nothing but grass, sprawling hills, and the arcing shapes of swallows whisking across the endless green. He watched the birds for a while; sometimes he felt the desire to chase them, but after failing a few times to keep up, Revui merely observed. He would never be fast enough to catch one of them, and he knew it.