The Hollows

Rosemary gave an ominous call that disturbed the silence of the early morning, the sky tinted lavender as the first rays of sunrise began to shine. The early morning had left a thick fog over the long yellow grasses that now provided his cover as he sized up his prey. Less than food Rosemary was interested in their striped pelts that were so reminiscent of his family’s coloration. He stayed low to the ground, standing down wind, his eyes wide as he crept closer

The call had been one to action, summoning any hunters that wished to join him on his hunt; the beasts were large and would take a combined effort to be brought down, especially with their large single toed hooves. A soft growl escaped him, causing one of the beasts to lift its head before it returned to its grazing. He could tell just by looking that the leather the creatures produced would be soft and pliant, an excellent crafting material for those who knew how to treat hides, which thankfully he did. He considered going after one of the young foals, but they blended too well into the cacophony of black and white made by the adults.

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