I'll be a stone, I'll be the hunter,
The tower that casts a shade
***
The tower that casts a shade
***
Raymond knew enough of bison to give them a wide berth, however well-armed he happened to be. At their core they simply wanted to be left the hell alone to do whatever it is that bison do in their spare time, which was definitely a way of life the red stallion could get behind. He, too, was happiest when he could eat and shit his way across a field like a big brown lawnmower.
In fact, he had spent his morning in just such a way, grazing contentedly as nature intended, setting aside the storm clouds looming on the horizon of his thoughts just for a few hours. The buffalo, while neither conversational nor at all interested in allowing him near enough for 'companionship', were serviceable if panicky lookouts for the occasion.
One of the Buffalo lowed, shaking its head toward the tree line with a cautious snort. Raymond followed the line of its warning to behold another stallion, stark white against the trees and golden grasses, and tilted his head curiously.
The stranger's opinion of bison seemed to be one primarily of unease. He didn't seem to see Raymond yet - perhaps the beasts were a bit too much of a draw - and Raymond took full advantage of his distraction to slip near enough toward his side to hold a conversation at a reasonable volume.
"They won't bother you if you stay out of their way," he said with a tinge of mild amusement that hadn't quite worked its way into the contours of his face. "I'm Raymond, by the way."
In fact, he had spent his morning in just such a way, grazing contentedly as nature intended, setting aside the storm clouds looming on the horizon of his thoughts just for a few hours. The buffalo, while neither conversational nor at all interested in allowing him near enough for 'companionship', were serviceable if panicky lookouts for the occasion.
One of the Buffalo lowed, shaking its head toward the tree line with a cautious snort. Raymond followed the line of its warning to behold another stallion, stark white against the trees and golden grasses, and tilted his head curiously.
The stranger's opinion of bison seemed to be one primarily of unease. He didn't seem to see Raymond yet - perhaps the beasts were a bit too much of a draw - and Raymond took full advantage of his distraction to slip near enough toward his side to hold a conversation at a reasonable volume.
"They won't bother you if you stay out of their way," he said with a tinge of mild amusement that hadn't quite worked its way into the contours of his face. "I'm Raymond, by the way."
***
Raymond
And at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the man comes around.
Raymond
And at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the man comes around.
@El Toro
aut viam inveniam aut faciam
