Lion Head Mesa but i won't do that

Well, there were always a few nonbelievers in a bunch.

It had never bothered him that much. His father had been incredibly debout; Vasiliy, not so much. Born with a healthy amount of skepticism, he'd accepted his birthright, but had never relished in it.

Born priest, Vasya replied. Father was priest—his father priest. Now. . .maybe not.

He brought his muzzle into the water, tearing away a particularly stubborn bunch of greens from the riverbank. The roots were strong, but his teeth stronger. He set the bundle alongside what they'd already collected, tongue swiping to clear the riverwater from his lips.