Yawning... as he always was... the black buck trudged along slowly, hooves dragging, creating lines in the mud as he went. His tail swished back and forth lazily and his eyes were only half open as he made his was to the nearby spring. His ears were hanging at the sides of his face, swinging back and forth over the glowing markings on his face, and his fetlocks were quickly getting soaked in brown, dragging mud.
After what seemed to him like days, but was probably only a good hour or so, Yawning Bear made it to the edge of the water, his hooves clicking as they met the over-hanging boulder. Once there, his legs quickly folded and his muzzle met the cooling surface of the water.
