Bearclaw Valley the great imitators

Hmm, Orson pondered, sifting through the years of experience she had from wandering the lengths of the continent. There's this place far east of here, called the Great Plains. It's just empty grassland fer miles and miles. There's hills an' what not, but no trees. Sometimes a bush here or there. She pictured the great expanse in her mind. An' it looks like nothin' should be living there. An' one day I was walkin' through, and me foot sinks into the ground, all the way up to my shoulder. It was some kinda hole, or summat. So I tried t'get out, y'know? But the dirt 'round it keeps slidin' in. I'm pretty much stuck. Then all of a sudden, these little rodent things — like li'l muskrats 'r somethin', start approachin' me. An' they bark! Well, it's more like a chirpin', but — there's ten or more of them, wit' their tails held high thinkin' they're tough an' gonna scare me off. An' the longer I fidget there tryin' t'get out, more and more come, 'til there's maybe fifty of 'em! By the time I get me paw out they're surroundin' me and I thinks — am I gonna get killed by a buncha rats? She laughs, thinking back to the malicious glares of the prairie dogs. They did look frightening in the heat of the moment. I high-tails it outta there soon as I was free. Never looked back. Never went back to the Plains again.