Lake Bismuth "Ill fate and abundant wine."

water beaded on the cowboy's mouth as he glanced up toward the blaring heat of the sun. he did not notice the owl, or else he might have muttered something to lynx.
"let's hunt an' hole up," colt suggested. "reckon i ain't cut out fer another'o them storms," he joked.
hard paws scuffed sand-grains and rawbit nose took the air. there wasn't anything to note, so he rolled his shoulders and headed around the first of many lakes.
hunger gnawed at him and curiosity about the other rested on that gnawing gut like a stone.