Something about the herdbeast pens always reminded Sandy of home. Maybe it was the good, honest musty smell or the familiar sound of hoofbeats. Not that she spent her days naval gazing and feeling thoughtful. She was just here because Rugrunth needed to eat and was being all particular about it.
He hovered there, waiting and waiting and looking and looking. He wasn't usually a dallier either. She didn't know what had gotten into him today.
"Hurry up, Rugrunth! Herdbeasts aren't going to catch themselves!"
There's a person there, Rugrunth explained, Hey, person! You'd better move, ha! This could get messy.