We walk the hills this morning without the dogs, who abandon us almost at the beginning. The vultures are circling and swooping low, a sure sign of a recent kill, something that Moka and Leo cannot resist searching out. No amount of calling dissuades them.
The goats walk solemnly in a straight line behind me. There is no dancing or gambling, very little browsing. Agaleah shares the lead with me. Is it safe? she seems to ask. Shall we go this way?
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