[1] Surface

Spring, Year 35
Entry 1 - afternoon

The pups are gone.

For a year, I have tolerated their presence on the ranch. No longer. The horses are skittish with them underfoot; only ol' Rosie has ever had much patience for them. I need those animals calm.

And alive.

The younger pup doesn't know what he is. He denies it, and refuses to see the rest of us for what we are. He's too dangerous. Should be put down. His--

What is the word I would use? Partner? Commander? Superior? Alpha? No. None of those fit. Friend, perhaps.

His friend refuses to hear of it. That youngling will one day wake up, and when he does, who will keep him in check? Not I. I doubt that hick he clings to will be able to do it, either.

Not my problem any longer.

The ranch has been rebuilt. I have seven horses and two foals now, sans Rosie. They took her and a wagon. I shouldn't have allowed that, but the younger pup remembered her from beyond the wall. He wasn't going to go without her. Who will keep the horses calm?

Maybe I will get some mules.

Note: the paper stock is just a generic find on google image search.