The meal was simple, grass, leaves and surprisingly apples. Robert ate and told a few simple stories of home. Then the buffalo gathered around in a huge circle for the telling of the tale. Robert padded gently into the midst of the circle. Rocks were tied to his feet, though for what purpose none could tell.

“Listen now good buffalo, as I weave for you the tale of the Great Bison and his Thundering herd.” Robert opened his mouth, and began to speak in a deep, sonorous voice.

Long ago in ages past, before ponies took the course of the Sun and Moon for their own, there roamed across the great plains of our world a glorious buffalo herd. Thunder cracked as they rolled across the plains. (Here he shook the stones that hung from his legs, cracking them together to substitute for the sound of thunder.) Each day and each night, the herd roamed, free and untamed. Then one day, they reached the edge of the grasslands the called home. The herd turned away, none of them having interest in the cold rock mountains where no grass grew and only ice and snow reigned. None save one. And e'en as the herd thundered on, that one stopped and stared into the mountains. Ice formed sheets high in the mountains, reflecting the early morning light, glistening and glinting in the sun.

That one lone buffalo felt a pull within him, a pull in his heart that demanded his attention. And so he left the herd to it's own travels and travails and stepped off the grasslands, and into the foothills of the mountains. For some time, he knew not what he searched for, nor the path to where it lay. Yet more he knew not where he gained sustenance for he grew neither hungry nor thirsty. Days past, seemingly without end as he traveled, walking deeper and deeper into the mountains, and higher and higher up their sides.

Far away, the thundering herd found him missing, yet in their long travels not one could tell when he had become lost and not a one knew where to look. All thought him either lost or that he would return himself to the herd in due time. And at once both were correct. E'en as they thought these things, far to the east, the lone buffalo accepted that he was truly lost, and even though he continued on towards the ice of the tops of the mountain, he knew that his destination lay ahead. As he walked, his tread became slowly heavier, each foot step seeming to echo more and more, enticing the ice and snow to give way and fall over. Yet he knew he would find no other path to his destination, and so he kept up his pace. Soon though, he found himself between the two highest peaks, and his footsteps echoed through the air. He took one fateful footstep, and the instant it contacted the ground he knew something was wrong.

Down and down the mountain he fell, as the ice gave way beneath him. He tumbled, rolled and crashed. (again the rocks clacked.) Until he at last reached the bottom. Through some miracle he did not understand, he was uninjured as though he'd stepped from the top to the bottom. Yet still he was filled with dread. Unbeknownst to him, high above in the clouds, circled those most dangerous of foes, the windigo. In these long ago days before ponies, the windigoes took the form of the great dragons, who were old even then. Up in the sky, they hid within the clouds, fighting to import a sense of doom within him. Even though he was feeling terror, he continued forward, having no way to climb the cliffs behind. Forward he walked unhindered by the terrible cold that gripped the land. As he strode forward, ice crept upon him and touched his dark coat. Each step brought more cold and more white to him. Soon he was gray as the ashes from a fire, but on he walked. As he strode, he began to think of how foolish he had been. Yet he continued, and soon he was as white as the snow on the mountains.

Now he came to notice the windigoes above him, circling and raging at his defiance. He looked upon them, and felt pity for them. That they should have hearts so cold, and try only to infect others with that same coldness of heart. And so his voice rang out between the mountains. 'Come down beside me, and walk this earth with me. Be warmed by my strength of heart and find your place in this world.'

For sometime he found no answer, then one by one the windigoes departed. He turned and continued his walk. The next morning, he found the windigoes had returned. Again he beseeched them. 'Let me into your hearts, that you may be warmed by my friendship and know my trust.' For a time it seemed as if all would turn and leave, but the last Windigo turned and fell from the sky, landing beside him. It spoke no words, but only turned to follow him. As they walked, the icy cold from the windigo leeched itself into the Buffalo and out of the windigo. Once more the winidigoes returned the next day, and now they faced two buffalo, white and unyielding. The bison entreated them. 'Descend from on high as your brother and come in friendship to walk by my side.'

And this time not one but two of them landed as the rest fled in disgust. But upon returning for a third day, they saw but three buffalo and were bolstered, until the land itself seemed to move and reveal the Bison. Now he was bleached as white as the snow, from the points of his horns to the tip of his tail. He had grown, both in size and strength from the companionship of the once windigoes. One last time his voice issued forth, in an entreaty to the beasts in the skies. 'Come with me and be like your brothers and join us, let go the cold cold hearts that beat within you. Join us on this warm ground.'

Half the number of Windigoes turned to land, but the largest of them, clearly the leader, twisted and rolled around, cutting them off from their path. The screeching sound of windigo speech was drowned out then by the sound of the Bison charging up to meet them in the sky. The leader and her minions turned and met his charge, but the Bison was of the same stuff, and they crashed together. (the stones crashed between his front legs and rattled as he shook them. A stretched wing tip cut a gust of wind into the top of the fire, and for a moment all could see the terrible crash of the bison and windigoes against each other.)

In the end the Great Bison was victorious. The windigoes who wanted to stay left the pack and those who remained were driven away. And they were sent to the far north, not to be seen or heard from again by buffalo or bison. Those who stood with the Bison were led from the frosted lands by the Great Bison, who had seen from the skies the route to freedom. The thundering herd found him just a day later. Not one of them recognized him until he explained himself. The two herds were joined, and the bison roamed the wild grass once more.

Robert collapsed to the ground, exhausted from the tale.

“A most excellent retelling.” Thunderhooves declared. “A tale we shall not lose again.”

“Indeed.” Long brew said. “And I judge it worthy of the flower.”

“As do I.” Thunderhooves said. He looked to Strongheart.

“I would agree Great Chief.” she nodded.

“Very well, will you stay the night?” Thunderhooves said.

“I would be honored.” Robert replied.

---

The next morning, Robert was the first one up. Long Brew woke up as he was building up the morning fire. “Morning. As guest you need not do that.”

“I don't mind.” Robert shrugged. "I admire those who have only hooves to work with, and as much help as even toes are, I will be glad to have my magic back.”

“I can only imagine.” Long Brew admitted. "My magic is not the same as that of the Tigers or the unicorns.”

“Sorry.” Robert apologized.

“No apology necessary.” Long Brew chuckled. "I have long since accepted it. Besides, I have trained with hermetic magic until none is my equal.”

“Hermetic magic?” Robert asked, intrigued.

“The magic of circles and seals.” Long Brew smiled.

“Ah. So that's the word for it.” Robert said. “I'd not heard it in equestrian. I do know a bit about it, but Tigers have never been much for it. Too much time to set up, and then we end up having to obliterate it when we move. I know a few tribes like mine winter in one place, but even then it's got to go before we leave so no one gets hurt from the residual energy.”

“So what do you know?” Long brew asked, setting a pot of water on to boil. No buffalo liked to get up early, so coffee was an absolute must.

“How to recognize them, and how to break into a shield one has created. How to disrupt them from being finished. Incidentally, my sexy dance doesn't do it as well as it does for other forms of magic.” Robert said, continuing to stoke the fire.

“I think I will spare myself and not even ask.” Long Brew said. “Would you perhaps like to learn from me?”

“I would be honored.” Robert said.

“Well, let us see what I can teach you between now and the end of breakfast.” Robert nodded, and listened. “Size of circle or seal is important. The larger the circle the more magic it can contain, but the larger it is, the more power it takes to keep it active.”

---

“Ah, I see from the glaze in your eyes, Long Brew has been teaching.” Thunderhooves said. “I know it well from the faces of the young buffalo.”

“Is Long Brew his real name? Or is it perhaps Long Winded?” Robert asked after a moment, still moderately dazed.

“That was his father.” Thunderhooves nodded. “A wise shaman. But he could talk the ears off of a dragon.” the big buffalo laughed, very nearly shaking the ground.

“My grandfather was worse.” Long Brew said. “Once he settled down to talk, the entire herd simply gave up and waited. Often we would wait days while he finished his opening.” laughter resounded in the background. “Eventually he was banned from telling the great tales. No one wanted to sit for a week to hear even his amazing telling.”

“I wonder why.” Robert said, slowly opening and closing his eyes. “Ah-ha, at last I once more have feeling in my eyelids.”

“Very funny.” Long brew said.

“What's for breakfast?” Robert asked, to turn the conversation in a less potentially destructive direction.

“Stewed swampgrass.” Thunderhooves said. “With a side of oak leaves.”

“And some fish for you.” Strongheart said. The other two buffalo looked at her. “I thought he might like something not grass.” she said with a shrug.

“Thank you very much.” Robert said. “I admit, it's been trying to eat only vegetarian as my hosts.”

“How do tigers deal with such things?” Thunderhooves asked.

“Transmutation. Most of us can transmute our food into other things so we grow vegetables and turn them into meat.” he answered. “Lots and lots of cabbages. They seem to be the best thing for transmutation for some indiscernible reason.”

“Water is a chemical component in many transmutation spells. So having it in the cabbage eases the transition to other foods.” Long Brew said. Everyone stared. “I did a lot of experimentation on it.”

“Very interesting.” Robert said, and nodded to Strongheart as she set his plate in front of him. “Thank you.” Steamed fish wasn't necessarily his favorite, but it was still very good. He pressed his paws together and spoke a few words. “Thank you for your sacrifice.”

“Who is he talking to?” Strongheart whispered to Long Brew. Robert pretended not to hear since she was whispering.

“He speaks to the spirit of the fish.” Long Brew replied. “An ancient custom amongst hunters.”

“Oh.”

With the meal finished, they broke camp. “Well, I suppose we must go our separate ways for now.” Robert smiled. “Perhaps sometime in the future I'll come back and learn more from you.” he offered a paw to Long Brew.

“I would like that. Someone who knows more magic than these.” He waved a hoof at the herd, several of whom laughed.

“I would welcome you among us again.” Thunderhooves added. “Especially should you bring more stories with you.”

“I'll try to remember some great chief.” Robert bowed and offered his paw. Thunderhooves shook it.

“Do you think you could tell your Ponyville friends I said hello?” Strongheart asked.

“I can indeed.” he shook her hoof. “With that, I leave you to it. May the land quake at your passage, and trouble part before you.”

“Fair winds and fortune.” Thunderhooves replied.

“Blue.” Long Brew said. None of them seemed to know what to say.

“Good-bye, have a safe trip.” Strongheart said.

“And you.” Robert turned then paused. “Umm... I forgot the flower.” laughter rolled through the herd.