Darion directed the wagon men to the new pens. The structures stood solid and waiting, their wooden frames dark against the night sky. The pens were ready. The animals were here. Now it was time to bring them home.
The wagon men moved quickly, their bodies weary from the long journey but their spirits high. They had made it.
They had survived the ambush, the chase, the long, slow trek across the desert and grasslands. And now, finally, they were here.
The animals were led out one by one. The cows came first, their heavy bodies moving slowly, their eyes wide and curious.
They had been on the road for days, and they were ready to rest. The wagon men guided them into the main pen, their voices calm, their hands steady.
The cows walked through, their hooves settling into the soft earth of the pen. They stood still for a moment, looking around, then lowered their heads to graze.
