Majestic might and gentle creature thundering across the plain. Shaggy brown coat covered in snow from the winter cold. An unending line of history going  back to before man came to your land. Now so few of you remain. Misunderstood and taken from your people, who only visited you when they had need. In numbers too vast to count, once you covered the land. Like a dark carpet upon the earth you roamed. Here and there across open spaces of tall golden grass. Through deep running rivers you would go. Brining your young with you, measuring time by the way the snow would fall and the grass would grow. Now you dwindle and are pushed into history. Your proud line laid low. The spiritual symbol for native strength, the majestic Buffalo.