The two males shifted back to smoke and flowed in the direction the bison had taken.
Simon watched them as the other four juvenile Sanguinati joined them. At least bison watching would give them something to do.
Jackson studied the land. “Back home, the land stretches out and you can see a long way. Here it won’t be as easy to keep track of a herd.”
“You may want to purchase a couple of all-terrain vehicles that the farmers and livestock wranglers can use,” Jerry said. “Steve wants a couple of them for the cassandra sangue campus along with a couple of small carts that can be attached to haul gear or feed.”
“Or the humans could use horses,” Simon said.
“If you want horses, you should talk to Liveryman. But you’d need to build some kind of shelter and a place for feed. The ATVs could be stored in the old industrial building.”
“Some of these houses will belong to terra indigene. Most will not have a car and the garage will be empty. Wouldn’t a garage be big enough for a horse?”
Jerry scratched the back of his neck. “I’m not saying it wouldn’t be useful to have a couple of horses here, but you’ll do better to build a structure meant for a horse than to try to refit a garage into a safe stall. You could store feed in a garage if you put wooden pallets on the floor to keep the hay dry, but that will attract mice that will get into the house through the attached garage. I suppose you could get a couple of cats.”
“The Panthergard don’t usually eat mice because it takes a lot of little rodents to make a meal,” Simon said. “But there are other terra indigene who would eat mice.” If the Others promised to consider them nonedible, maybe having a few domestic cats living in the community would reassure the humans. With the way humans hoarded possessions where mice could nest, cats that lived with humans would find hunting in a house easier than an Owl would. Maybe there were spare cats on Great Island?
Horses, cats, and all-terrain vehicles. More things for the list the next time he talked to Steve Ferryman.
“Anything else you need?” Jerry asked.
Simon shook his head.
“Almost forgot.” Jerry opened the passenger door of his truck and pulled out a carry sack, which he handed to Simon. “We have tennis courts at our community centers, both on the island and the mainland part of Ferryman’s Landing. Don’t know if any of your folks play the game, but Ming Beargard saw Pam Ireland throwing a tennis ball for her dog, and he thought you might like a few of the balls for the youngsters.”
“Thank you.” The Wolves already knew about this kind of ball. Bouncy—and soft enough that it didn’t hurt a pup if he missed the catch and got conked on the head. But he didn’t tell Jerry that this wasn’t a new thing for the Lakeside Courtyard. Besides, these balls could stay here for the Wolves who would settle in the River Road Community.
Jerry drove away, turning north on River Road to head back to Ferryman’s Landing.
Jackson reached for the carry sack. “Can I see one of those?” He studied a yellow ball, squeezed it, then threw it.
The juvenile Wolves watched the yellow ball disappear in the long grass.
“You’re supposed to run after it and bring it back. That’s the throw game,” Simon said.
Jackson threw another ball in the same direction, and this time the Wolves raced after it. After finding both balls, they trotted back to Jackson, who threw the balls again.
Simon watched his friend and felt excitement bubble inside him. Jackson throwing a ball was part of the prophecy Meg saw for this community. “Roy Panthergard is going to resettle here. A female might be coming with him.”
Jackson aborted the next throw and looked at Simon in surprise. “A mate? The Panthergard aren’t as solitary as regular panthers, but would two of them—could two of them—live so close together?”
“Don’t know. Don’t know if the female is planning to stay or just wants to look at this part of Thaisia before deciding. Either way, Roy is going to settle here.” Simon hesitated. “What about you?”
“Me?” Jackson’s next throw was so short the Wolves barely had to move to catch it. “You thought I would be staying? Why?”
“Because Meg saw you here.” Simon shrugged. It was still too easy to believe that everything a blood prophet saw would happen in the future, especially when Meg had been right so often. But you couldn’t make assumptions about the visions.
When Jackson looked uneasy, Simon continued. “This is what Meg described—you throwing a ball for juvenile Wolves. I thought it meant you would live here.”
The Wolves dropped the balls at Jackson’s feet, then trotted off to explore the land around the houses, having had enough of the game.
“I like living at Sweetwater,” Jackson said. “And Grace is from the High North and would miss the snow.”
“We have snow.”
Jackson laughed. “You don’t have what Grace calls snow.”
He hoped no one relayed that comment to the Elementals in Lakeside. He didn’t want Winter to feel the need to prove she could provide as much snow as some of the Elementals in the Northwest or High North.
“Besides,” Jackson continued, “the Hope pup is settling in, learning the land and how to take care of herself. And it’s different now, isn’t it? The Intuits are more interested in talking to us, exchanging information about the prophet pups, asking what would be helpful for the ones they’re looking after. It’s not just a weekly visit to the trading post anymore.”
“And you’re the leader they talk to.” Simon nodded. “Like Joe is talking to the Intuits in Prairie Gold.”
“You and your Meg showed Others and Intuits that it’s possible to really work together.”
“Not all humans feel that way,” Simon warned.
“Not all the terra indigene feel that way either.” Jackson picked up one of the tennis balls and frowned. “Don’t think you want to put this in with the clean ones.”
“We’ll take those two with us and put the carry sack with the clean balls in the garage attached to the Sanguinati’s house.” When they were ready to leave, Simon called the juvenile Wolves.