When a storm comes and the sky is thick dark and the wind is howling, two paths unfold.
The cow, wired for fear, bolts. It runs from the storm, only to stretch out its suffering, and never get away from the storm’s grip.
But the bison lower their heads and charge straight into the storm. They cut through, quick and fierce, emerging on the other side stronger, faster, transformed.
When the storm finds you, will you turn away, or will you run into it?