Hoshor Plains easy

the wrangler patrols the borders with more vigilance than he had before, storm eyed and ready to sink his teeth into supplant flesh of those who dared to trespass. previous incidents where he'd let them go burns beneath his skin like an itch he wishes to remedy; and because the horse herds that also called the plains have begun to both rut and give birth.

though he is unsure where they stand with the horses, which appear to be wary if them than the bison, he loops them beneath his protection with no intention of hunting them.

it is the outcry of grouse, the small eruption of them as they take to the sky all at once lasso's in arktos' attention and his course alters, path intersecting with the cause.

laugher drowns out the protests of the birds and arktos' gaze zeroes in on the woman draped in a soft myriad of colors. a low chuff leaves arktos' lips to announce his presence, steps slowing upon his arrival.