Meadowlark Prairie that the people would see me too as a poet

The smile that crossed his face was quick, barely a flash of lips in an upward motion, before his head would turn to follow the calf as it desperately tried to get away.

But it was tired, young, and without the nourishment of its mother. It bleated plaintively. Had Aquillius had the bleeding heart of another, he’d have felt horrible for killing such a pathetic thing. But, Aquillius’s heart had long since frozen over.

Very good. He lunged forward, curling around the calf to startle it back towards the other man.