As much as he knew he should have spoken up to reprimand the boys, Zevulun found his eyes dancing with some mirth as he watched their antics. It was so good to have children in the Prairie of all ages, the continued fruit of all his hard labor to build this place into what he wanted. Hadn’t he desired a place where he could watch his children grow up, where he could grow old and have the chance to watch his grandchildren? He chuckled as they reared up and went at one another, casting a brief glance toward their mother, Chati, as she arrived in their wake.

“Alright boys, alright,” He called out in a booming voice quite suddenly, noticing a few of the herd had cast a look in his direction as if wondering when his fun-loving nature would win out and he would do his job to keep the younglings from fighting in the midst of the herd. The pale Prairie lead moved toward them, tipping his pink muzzle to his chest and arching his neck, pushing his shoulders up so they seemed larger, pulling his steps a little higher and tighter. He moved toward them, circled half-way around them and said- “How about a little two-on-one action? Think you both could stand up against me?”