Hoshor Plains suburban muse

YOINK

Envy had spent the past few days trying to seek out the other Yellowstone wolves, many of which seemed to be standing as sentinels near and around the bison herd.

Was such an activity the only form of entertainment around here? Now, she didn't mind the power trip she'd gleam from seeing the wary glares cast her way from bison calves and mothers, who'd bristle as soon as they saw a wolf on the horizon, but she grew tired of taunting something she'd never get to play around with. The sick and the infirm. Not their rowdy little babies.

She felt like a scavenger at a carcass, waiting for the killers to go away before she could swoop in; yet here there were no killers, only rage-filled mothers. She didn't fuck with that sort of thing, her own had given her a decent taste of it. 

Either way, it was a thrill denied. How could you bear to sit and watch? To stifle the ache in your legs which spur you to chase? It was strange, but then again, others often rang strange to her.

The patter of pearly mitts against rugged soil was all that accompanied her, until she caught wind of a tune on the breeze, and its singer crouched casually in the grass ahead. He was a smaller man, and a part of her grew interested in the worst possible way.

No no, be good, wretch.

She was dwarfed by most of the others who occupied this slate of land. Welcome to the pack of behemoths! But not this one. This one, she stood on equal ground with. She could venture to be more boisterous without the fear of losing an appendage.

It was wrong, and she knew it. Gods above, at least say hello before you fantasize about torturing the poor fellow.

And so she did, she grew closer, quickening her pace until she was close enough to nip at the hide of the man. Hello! She yipped suddenly, trotting a circle around him in a squirrely manner and bowing, as if to invite a chase. You are also yellowstone? Mr Ark... er...that guy never told me any other names! I am Envy!