Lion Head Mesa silence is the unbearable repartee

A thud, then a whirl of sand. They announced his victory, to which the muted beast reacted not. 

But when they spoke, he inched closer with an air of curiosity. Things this one spoke of were of nothing he'd heard before. It drew him in further. 

Accepting of the gesture, he stood tall, shaking out his own, riled fur. Proceed to observe the other in wonder, he did, wondering what might come next. Good things, he hoped.