Another shift in seasons pulled the islands toward autumn. It had been another few sleepy seasons as was bound to occur, but he had a feeling the cooler weather would bring everyone back to life. In most ways that was going to be a good thing but, in others, it would be wretched. It had been some time since anyone had come for the Prairie, the last being Garmr from the Lagoon coming after Castillon over his mare, Aura. There was still some trouble being worked out from that mess, but Zevulun had learned early on his son wanted no input from him regarding how he handled the situation.

There was a shift between he and his son. Zevulun had not agreed with his choice to go stay in the Lagoon and leave the small family he’d gotten together behind. Send a guardian, he remembered suggesting and then thought that look of barely suppressed irritation that appeared across his son’s face made him look more like his mother than he ever had. Something told Zevulun the strain between he and Castillon didn’t have to only do with what’d happened last winter. It had been building as the boy grew older, likely as he experienced his own trials to face and began to judge how his father had allowed things to play out with his mother.

For that, Zevulun could not blame him. He only hoped the resentment that was growing inside his son didn’t take root as he glanced across the rolling hills of the yellow autumn-grass prairie. Eventually, and maybe even soon, he would seek Castillon out to have a private conversation with his son. Zevulun was painfully aware that he had much less time in this world than he once did and, since the attack of the grizzly bear and his near-death experience, he knew sometimes it didn’t even matter how much time one thought they had left.

Giving his body a shake as if to physically dispel the heavier topics his mind had wandered to, the cream stallion began to walk through the sea of tall yellow grasses. They parted in soft whispers with each brush of his legs through them. Idly, here and there, he dropped his neck and snatched a few mouthfuls, but his grazing was more out of laziness than it was out of a necessity to feed himself. Despite any lingering uncertainties and looming woes, the Prairie was as peaceful as he’d always intended it to be. For now, he could enjoy himself and soak in the bounty he had fought so hard to keep safe.

Still, he didn’t need to do so alone.

Zevulun called out, beckoning any of the herd who might want to join him for a lazy walk-and-graze across the Prairie hills.