<i><p align=center>. . . B o r e d o m . . .</i> -- DarkStar's Herd

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Casual auditives flickered in the four cardinals, orbs sweeping the herd and the boundaries beyond them. It seemed the herd had grown a little unactive in the heat of the summer . . . this he did not mind, for these things always moved in cycles.

Obsidian hooves stomped impatiently upon the barren ground where he stood, all strength had returned mysteriously to him by morning as was promised. Tail batted angrily at the pests whom swarmed him mid-day. Incisors click, control and relaxation against the pests snapping. Taking revenge upon his barrell where a deer fly was trying to attack him.

Finally satisfied with his vengance he begins once more to crop at the nearest tree's leaves. Enjoying their soothing relief, he continued to stay where he was until the evening hours . . . content.

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