Hoshor Plains no good horses

a moment of deliberation, choosing not to look up at her while she perched higher above him on the rock. he looks up to none and regardless of whether or not that was who arktos had been before ground zero or not, it was who he was now. which had been why he'd been so eager to leave morningside before he caused unnecessary drama. a dominant personality did not like to be stifled.

it would come out: ugly or otherwise.

only when she leaps down from the rock does arktos truly acknowledge her; moss green gaze assessing as she introduces herself.

yellowstone, he affirms with a nod. we share these plains with herds, bison and the tall, muscular maned creatures that he didn't have a word for. but he was not interested in hunting the horses; which seem a bit more conscious than the bison herds. we protect them so long as we share this land. we cull the bison herd of it's weak and it's sick and that meat fills our bellies and that fur warms our beds.