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

The deer went down and Aquillius came cantering, sliding to a stop before the man who brought it down. He dipped his head in thanks for the catch.

Many thanks, stranger. He spoke, waving his tail briefly, before he was back to stoicism.

I am Aquillius. His eyes went to the dead fawn, then back up to the man.

Aquillius Brutus Redsand, in full.