Golden Glade don quixote

a bottlebrush tail swayed for a moment, below his hips.

it was good to be in the presence of somebody who had needed tasks done. it instilled in him some sense of the purpose he had been raised to seek.

the man's comment could be taken as comical. for the betterment of both, tracker chuckled. low and cooing. he could play along like a good dog.

it is why there are roosters, he listened to the increasing rain, thankful for the overhang of leaves. they herd the hens, protect them, give order. without the rooster? well i don't need to tell you, do i?

his teeth chattered with low laughter.