Mohr'lii leaned on the fence and sighed as he surveyed his herd. They grazed on the tough scrubs of his land in the cool air of a star-lit night. He'd gone all-in; spent everything he had on these two dozen head. With a little luck and some good weather, he'd be able to turn them over at the end of a couple seasons for as much as three thousand a head. That would be enough, he hoped, to pay off the loans and save a bit of extra for a ring.
A soft breeze tickled Mohr'lii's gills and gave him a sense of things to come. The air was still dry. Probably no rain for another three, four months. He could go that long, but he worried about his herd. His new buffalumps had full, fat reserves now, but those would diminish soon enough. Mohr'lii tried to have some faith in his enterprise. His people had been ranching in this region for decades, and their herds always prospered. He just had to take it one day at a time, tend to the needs of his herd, and the money would come. He'd be out from under the thumb of the bank. And he could buy a ring. For her.
Image by Retroroxi @ Deviantart
WARNING: this story contains some adult language, you can't say you haven't been warned!