Frost on the Grasslands | Shelha Series 1 | ✔

The Territory

Comet was the first to stop growing as the seasons went by. She scowled fiercely when Ice pointed this out, and chased her older sister until Ice got away, cackling, and ran off to race the twins and win. Carp and Vixen were already the tallest of anyone but Elm and were showing no signs of slowing down.

The herd now hovered along the edge of the South Flats, no longer in the long grass of the growing-up grounds but not yet roaming free. Adult size was not long coming for the rest of them. Elm held out at the top of the height spectrum and Ice had maintained her second place. She and the twins tested this often, and arguments over who slept stretched out and whose fur lay flatter were not uncommon. Echo had tied with Kastar and beat Greyling, who just rolled his eyes and got smacked by Comet, who said he had nothing to complain about. He still overshadowed her by two heads.

A cool season on the flats was the herd's first taste of freedom. Suddenly Ice-twin races could take place across a quarter day of distance, not just a hundred tail-lengths. Food was thin on the ground but if the herd ever failed to find any, they could just move. There was no sign of anybody else—just the occasional Drakon and the endless, gorgeous sky.

The growing season that came next rolled thick, lush green over the hills, while in the coulees the river seeped across flattened banks and coaxed up fields of reeds. The first storm came in Thunder Moon. Vixen came down stomach-sick and proved to be exceptionally sensitive to the pressure changes preceding violent weather. As the soaker drew itself up out of thin air, the herd ran perpendicular to it until they were out of range. It was a new concept, to be able to simply run to avoid a storm.

Then the mid storm season came.

By Mist Moon the Coppertails were lean, fit, and in universal agreement that migration for the storm season now made a lot of sense. They were not old enough yet—only Kastar and Elm were nudging into near-adulthood and had the stamina to make the first trip—but next year... maybe next year.

Then the next year the Drakons had exceptional hunting and a population surge, and crossing the Rock flats became impossible. Comet got taken so many times, she became resigned to it, and saved her energy for when Greyling got himself captured to get her back. He was getting good at it.

Then at last, the first migration.

Ice whistled as the impossibly long vegetation of the Grass Flats gave way to open land, and the Plains rolled out before the herd. Echo was already sniffing about in search of things to eat and things that might have healing properties. Kastar felt Elm's tail flick his side.

"We made it," she said, smiling.

"Kept everyone alive till adulthood, you mean?"

They both chuckled.

"So where to now?" said Greyling, trotting up.

"Wherever we want, I assume," said Elm. "Northlanders keep territories, but they should be on the North Flats, not here."

"I'm keen on Echo's idea right now, actually," said Kastar.

The shy female had unearthed several tubers that her instinct recognized as edible and was passing them around. After a three-quarter moon on the run, everyone was starving.

The Plains turned out to be far broader than the South Flats; broader than anyone could have imagined. Exploration was deemed the first priority after food. The herd ran north until they could run no longer, then stopped for the night. In the morning they continued, then the day after that, and the day after that.

"If this were running north from the Lowlands, we'd be past the South Cliffs by now," panted Carp by the fifth afternoon. While noticeably scrubbier and a bit more chilly at night, the landscape thus far had not changed. This was almost as wide as the Rock Flats.