*Isabella*
The creak of the wagon wheels’ monotonous lullaby starkly contrasts with the chaotic howls and traditional camp songs that still echo in my ears. Last night, several of the packs travelin’ west got together on the outskirts of St. Louie for a final farewell. Chet and I communicated through the mind-link and stolen glances across the campfire, surrounded by both our families and friends.
The wild west feels so close and yet still so far away as we travel northwest through corn and wheat fields today.
While I ride with Chet during the day, I still spend my evenin’s with Ma, Pa, Alice, and Robert. My older brother is almost always with the cattle now. For some reason, I get a funny feelin’ about spendin’ the night with Chet. Maybe it’s because we ain’t really, ceremonially hit
