Hoshor Plains salute as the warrior cries

the frown that tugs at arktos' lips does little to hide his displeasure that it is only four of them against the ill bison. he has his doubts of their success but he is here and if anyone else has their own doubts they seem to keep them to themselves.

nephele directs dreven and him to be the muscle and he offers his wife a firm nod of his head; akin to a tip of a cowboy hat. he didn't need to be told twice.

green gaze scans their options of good places to lie in wait and lands on a thicket of thick, tall golden grasses. [q]c'mon.[/b] he motions for dreven to follow, hunkering down among the grasses in wait.