Knowledge of this day lodged in the herd, got passed down like what headlights meant, like how those blocks of salt aren’t for elk tongues in the daytime, like how the taste of smoke means to walk somewhere else slowly, head down, feet light. The price of the knowledge about trains had been high and the coming winter harder, as less hooves means more wolves, but the herd didn’t feed down near town anymore, and they didn’t trust the metal tracks anywhere they encountered them, knew they could stand up into a sudden wall.
