Hoshor Plains we're all growing up

Things hadn't gone her way, and they weren't going to. Milan had accepted that. It had been nearly half a year since Bearclaw Valley fell and she left on her search for Frederick, but there was nothing to show for it.

She had spent time in another pack, small, but friendly enough to keep her fed so long as she did her part. That didn't last though, and in the end she chose to leave and begin the trek back towards the Teekon Wilds. Her heart still ached, but had long since pieced itself back together. She knew there was safety here, wolves who would accept her despite what her fears screamed; it had happened once before.

Milan hadn't been on this side of the mountain before, she had never needed to be. It reminded her of the plains she was born in, for better or worse.

For the moment, all she could do was stare ahead. Without any sense of familiarity she wasn't sure where to go next.

He had been here before, he was sure of it, back when the flatland flourished with a mingled scent and song. Perhaps not on this very plain, but close to it, close enough that he paused a moment to linger on the memory of bygone days.

Now, these scents were gone and reclaimed by sweet grass and wild wind. A hint of game crested on the breeze, thick and numerous: bison roamed the expanse, great heads down and thin tails swaying. They dotted the landscape as naturally as wildflowers, though not as pretty, and no where as pleasant to smell.

There was another who watched them, and she seemed alone, preoccupied by the herd or something else that must have caught her eye across the plains. Simeon cleared his throat, and remarked with a hum, Y'know, from back here, those bison look as small as sitting ducks. He leaned in with a squint to the herd, I'll be ducks are still meaner, though.

A sudden voice startled her, but not enough to run given they didn't seem to have ill-intent. Milan turned to look back; a younger man, sturdy and tall.

Admittedly, she hadn't been paying any attention to the bison. Maybe, but at least you could throw a duck off of you. What she knew of bison was simple: stay away. You've hunted bison before? It was a guess, a hope to prevent the inevitably awkward silence. Safe to say that she hadn't spoken with a stranger in a while.

She did have to admit, the bison looked remarkably harmless from where they stood. Almost cute - almost.