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

The dark coated yearling was curious, his tail beginning to wave with a happiness, which brought a smile to the golden and brown wolf. 

Sands of gold, like a desert. I was born into an oasis surrounded by dunes for miles. To the south, however, were the sands of the coast, where in some places, were pink. He openly and excitedly spoke to the youth. 

If you are Redsand, then you were born of the canyons?