It is 2:00am, and a wrangler awakes with a start inside her tent where she’s been soundly sleeping. It was not a sound, but the absence of it that woke her. She sits up and peeks outside into the mountain meadow where the moon and stars are casting midnight shadows. In doing so, the horses that were dozing for a moment turn their heads to look up and the night air is filled with the most reassuring sound a wrangler can hear. Bells.

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