Hoshor Plains shale

Fancy wondered if Selenia felt nervous in the grasslands. Begrudgingly, she had to admit that the bison had undoubtedly offered them some protection from predators- but even they would move on, eventually. She did not wish to tag along with them forever. They ate ferociously- if there came a drought, they would be competition for food.

She snorted softly, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips the way a gentle bit might. ”I hope so,” She affirmed. With no other stallions vying for Maplesmoke’s position, it seemed likely. ”I didn’t catch, last year.” She said, as she chewed a mouthful of grass. ”First time for me. The last year’s felt like a waste of time, being empty.”