Hope and Fear Come at a Gallop
Malcolm plodded arduously up the last hill. The air was cooler here, trees were fewer, the vegetation sparse but, as they rose higher, Prickly Pear and Juniper berry bushes abounded so he stopped quickly to forage. He had never tasted Prickly Pear berries before and found them tart.
“Can we rest?” asked Rollo, scratching about for something to eat.
Malcolm quickly browsed a clump of berries. “They’re too close.”
“Why do they hate us so much?”
“We opposed them.”
“I think so.”
“Rats are stupid,” said Rollo. Continue reading