Meadowlark Prairie codeine scene

roan returned with the weight of success draped across his shoulders, the small pronghorn’s lifeless body hanging limp from his jaws. its death had been swift, clean—his approach steady and unrelenting, his teeth precise as they found the vulnerable place at its throat. it hadn’t stood a chance against him, hiding poorly among the sparse shrubs of the plain.

he dropped the kill before synder, his pale eyes flicking briefly over her seated form. she had stayed, as commanded, and her quiet compliance earned no scorn from him. instead, he stepped back, giving her the space to take what she needed.

without a word, roan lowered his broad frame into the snow, resting nearby but still watchful. his gaze remained on her, not out of impatience, but as if ensuring she wouldn’t falter. the wind swept across the plain, ruffling his dark fur, but he remained a steady presence against its bite.

it was hers to eat, his task fulfilled. roan did not linger on the effort it had taken him to bring the meal—this was simply what was expected. what he did. without praise or ceremony, he watched her begin, the faintest flick of his tail the only sign of his approval.