Meadowlark Prairie Here I am…. A tumbleweed.

“No, I do not understand their words. They’re another species, but you can tell if they’re content or angry by their tone.” 

She spoke of moose, and deer and elk. Although most of the times he saw elk, or other hooded prey like that was when they were provided for food. But he’d seen alive elk before. “Maybe.” He replied “If you think about it, maybe to them, they can’t hear us talk.” “But a deer bark? That sounds like it would be strange.”


She asked if they were dangerous, and oh boy, did he have an answer for her: “They are very dangerous,  when they run, there’s no stopping them.” “So if your in their path, you better get out of there.

They had reached a stop, at the smell of a dead animal. Food! He trotted over, after thanking Ceridwen of course, and dug his face into it. “Mmm” He made groaning noises, as it tasted so good.