Verdigris Ravine palm

his time of mourning was over. zoug had lost many in the orange flowering of trees at the onset of summer. the scrub had caught fire and his clan had been scattered. many searches in the smoke had discovered no one. 

so he had gone away northward and now found himself in the heat beneath which a hot land spread, not so unfamiliar, and yet he did not know any part of this place.

in zoug was an abiding hatred for wolves, for their teeth had always plagued his clan until the first stars had discovered their protective cave. he had dedicated it to the spirits of earth and water. but fire had taken it in the end.

he snorted and crept down into a ravine, lying on his blood-flecked belly in the warm water as he rested for a moment with closed eye.