Tallow sat with legs outstretched atop a grassy hill, watching the sunset. The neatly-trimmed grass usually bothered him, but today he was managing to ignore the vaguely sharp itch that the edges of cut grass usually inflicted. The sky was clear of clouds, and the horizon was barely obscured by a few distant mountains. The few trees adorning the hill were bent over from long decades of strong winds, and this evening was no exception.
Although the city streets were not far away, he was thankful the number of excessively-tall buildings in this area was very low. He hated not being able to see the horizon properly. Casting his gaze down, he watched the sprawling city. Bathed in golden and burgundy tones from the setting sun, it was still very much alive. People walked, vehicles moved, and the taint of smog could be faintly seen in the air above as a ghostly veil blanketing the entire city.
Why is it that the younger races always ruin their worlds? It seems ridiculous.
Tallow had been in this city for several days now, always keeping to the outskirts. He preferred the sprawling areas to the ones that pierced the heavens. Certes, they were impressive, but he much preferred simply being able to see the sky. The local populace had looked at him askance when he asked what the city was called, but they answered readily enough.
New York. Rather an unimaginative name, but then many things in these places have such simple names.
Jolted from his reverie by the sound of footsteps behind him, he pulled himself into a standing position and turned around. Searching for the source of the sound, he saw at first only the sparse trees atop the hill. "Hello?" he called. "Is someone there?" Taking up his staff from where it had lain on the ground beside him, he prepared to defend himself if need be.
