Here is today's freebie poem. It was inspired by a prompt from ellenmillion and tells how the Yasiluu people of Torn World came to rely on dogs as their primary livestock.
Lost and found and lost again,
spinning through the mists of time,
is the trail of the dogs of the Yasiluu.
Before the Ancients came their ancestors,
forgotten long before the world was broken,
who coaxed the wolves close to the campfires
and turned them into dogs.
They were working dogs at first,
carrying burdens and leaving traces
for the archaeologists to find.
Then they laid down their burdens
and became pets, pampered and primped
and entered in shows
to win prizes.
But when the world shattered into fragments,
little of the livestock remained to the Ancients,
so they turned to their pets and asked them
to take up their work once more.
So the ibiyarf grew tall and strong,
becoming plowdogs to till the fields.
The olayarf grew smart and sturdy,
becoming guard dogs and pack dogs
to ward their territory and carry small loads.
The aduriyarf grew clever and swift,
becoming messenger dogs to bear the news
and things that are safe for anyone to hold.
The kasiyarf grew loyal and fierce,
becoming wardogs to bear dangerous things
and defend against wild beasts and bandits.
By the time the world began to heal itself,
the memory of Horse had dwindled to mythology,
and it was the legend of Kasiikar and his hounds
that placed Dog at the right hand of Man.