As much as he did not wish to sleep, it was only mere moments after she had that Peyote felt his head dropping and eyelids growing heavy. As much as the pursuit and successful capture had given him some semblance of completion and pride, it had worn him down as well. It had taken a lot of energy to drive her from Luthien, through Crossing, and down here to the little island amid the swamps he inhabited. Peyote had succumbed quickly to the slumber.

But he awoke before her; he watched her in the early dawn light, studied the lines of her face when they were soft with rest, and he further confirmed to himself that he had chosen absolutely correctly. He was meant to be reveling in the thought of her family at a loss, waking up to realize she was still missing from them, but Peyote hadn’t thought once about the Prairie and those who resided in it. His mind was filled only with her; she was his new fascination.

Psychedelic might’ve taught his son that his purpose was to disrupt the herds, but he’d never taken into account that Peyote might find himself… entranced by the prize he took.

Once he noted she was sleeping heavily, he slunk off into the shallow waters of the swamps, groaning as he lowered his sore muscles down into the muck and mud, slathering himself with a few rolls and careless plops down into it. Only once each side was a slick, wet gray-brown and his hair was coated, clumped and stuck to his neck and around his legs, did Peyote wander off a little deeper into the swamp waters. They swirled around his knees as he lowered his lips and brushed them idly over the mineral-rich water. He’d slipped through a few of the large trees when he noticed her lurch upward and froze, seeing how she looked around herself first, likely thinking she would see him near.

When she didn’t see him he watched her turn her attention back to surveying her surroundings, and then she began to inch for the trees he was shadowed by. Peyote could not keep himself from smiling, though he didn’t know why he felt particularly gleeful. Was it because he had an excuse to frighten her again? He moved, purposefully, making certain he would cause enough noise to pull her attention his way. When he had it, he walked slowly toward her, then glanced in the direction she’d been thinking of heading, then back at her again.

“It’s dangerous.” He warned her, voice soft.