Bison and Roland

The air was thin. The wind was raw. Today the warm sun would not crest over the prairies horizon. It would not light up the golden fields of wheat. Those months had come and gone. Snow blanketed everywhere the eye could see. It was just about dawn when he opened his eyes. The bison slowly rose. His soft brown coat had become encased with snow and ice from the previous nights storm. His deep shallows breaths were the only noise for miles. He needed to continue and onward and reach Wollaston Lake. The previous nights snow had buried deep all of his belongings. Slowly but surely though he found his canteen, satchel and walking stick. But where was his compass? Panic quickly came over him. The compass was the only thing that could get him to Wollaston Lake. The Bisons nostrils flared up and he smelt smoke. He scanned the horizon for any signs of a fire. A few hundred yards ahead he saw the soft glow of snow coming from a hole in the snow. Wisps of smoke slowly rose from this small snow cave. He quietly made his way over. Getting closer to this small snow cave, he heard the sound of pots and pans. Once at the entrance of the cave he slowly poked his head in. He was greeted by a very old porcupine who was fixing himself a cup of coffee and a hard boiled egg. The porcupine introduced himself as Roland. The Bison was not a fan of meeting new people. He didnt do well with carrying on a conversation or small talk. Plus, he still had yet to find his compass. So in a low and grumbly voice he asked Roland " Compass, have you seen one ? ". Roland's face slowly to a warm smile and pointed to the weathered kitchen table. There on the table in bits and pieces was the Bison's compass. The Bison was puzzled as to why his sacred compass was scattered in pieces across the Porcupines table. Though Roland was quick to inform him of what had happened. He told the Bison how the previous night a Screech Owl had tried to take off with the Bison's compass. Roland had quickly scampered for his Smith&Wesson and fired one shot at the Owl. Though not having the eyes he use to have, Roland, missed and accidentally shot the compass. The Bison's face suddenly dropped and small silver tears streamed down his face. Roland had noticed this and let out a deep hearty laugh from his belly. "My boy My boy Don't you fret! I shall not let you leave empty handed" said Roland. Very slowly Roland unzipped the small pouch on his stomach. From it he pulled a very old and precious looking compass. " This is for you! " exclaimed Roland and tossed it to him. The Bison caught it and looked it over. " This will do" he grumbled and quickly left. The Bison turned away from the Porcupines snow cavern and headed for the gray abyss of snow and wind ahead. He had hundreds of miles to go before he reached Wollaston Lake.