Ouroboros Spine and i, the star-- burn low

Far from the mountain, through the valley to the open plains where the land rumbled with the storming steps of bison, the man Mojag stood in watch of the beasts. He had been studying them since his inception to Yellowstone; his full attention was there upon the grassland as he saw two bulls vying for the attention of one of the cows. They made their grunts and trumpeted calls, and when the female moved off they turned their sights on one-another and stomped.

Mojag was fascinated. He expected to witness another furious battle between — ! A furious sound on the wind came, then. He knew that voice.

It was a distant cry from the west. Mojag turned his attention up to the great blue of the sky and moved quickly to climb a nearby hill; the call came again, and while it was from such a distance he knew it was his sister. He knew she was in pain - and he knew one word spoken, Shikoba.

In this way Mojag came to know his mother's passing. In this way he felt his heart break.

Knowing the end was coming for his mother had been one thing, but to have the end occur and to not be there, that was a whole other beast. He doesn't feel the wind knock out of his body so much as, he struggles to take in a breath. Mojag thinks of the last time he had visited his mother - what she looked like (had she been grayer?), if she had eaten (had she thinned?), and could only envision the version that lived freely in his mind: the star hunter in her prime, larger than life.

All other sensations seemed to slow. Even though the bison had begun to ram one-another and fight for that woman, Mojag heard none of it. He saw none of it. The world was silent to him, until he raised his head and sang to the faraway mountains:

Goodbye mother, I love you.

He was surprised that his voice did not waver. As the call ended, he stood there on the hill without any understanding of what to do next, or how to feel, or what he felt, and sank in to the grass.