Hoshor Plains the remembering

fjall weaves a fine tale, with a historical reverence and depth that arktos struggles to put to the herd. though he has decreed they were central to yellowstone, a symbiotic relationship between predator and prey he regards them as a cowboy should: protect them from other predators and help them by culling their herd of sick and old and lame to fill the bellies of his own kith and kin.

hell, i dunno, fjall, arktos says with a hearty chuckle. maybe they're the sons waiting for the men to come back and claim 'em when they come together for matin' season. arktos was still, clearly, fumbling around with learning about the bison ( and butchering it ).

where'd you learn that story? arktos' question is not cruel or cold. it is full of soft curiosity, peering at fjall out of the corner of his eye.

he is quiet for a while, giving fjall time to answer. you seem pretty knowledge about 'em. yellowstone could use that. could use you. this time, the warbear fixes fjall in his mossgreen gaze, gauging the younger man's reaction to the offer.