NOTE: I was inspired to write this by the official field note "Beefalo".
I've ventured beyond the relative safety of my camp and found myself in a new biome—a vast, rolling savannah. The grass here grows in thick tufts, and it seems to stretch on endlessly. But more importantly, I've discovered something remarkable: Beefalos. I stumbled upon a herd of these creatures while I was out hunting rabbits. At first, I froze—these beasts are enormous, towering over me with shaggy coats and large, curling horns. Their sheer size had me convinced that if one charged, I wouldn't stand a chance. But, to my surprise, they barely acknowledged my presence. One of them glanced in my direction, snorted, and then... resumed eating.
That's all they do, it seems. Eat. Constantly. From dawn till dusk, they graze on the grasses of the savannah, moving as one large, lumbering mass. It's almost... peaceful, in a way. Despite their brutish appearance, they seem content with their monotonous existence. And when they're not eating, well... they're relieving themselves. The smell from the herd is... indescribable, and not in any kind of polite terms. But, their dung—oh, it's a valuable resource! I've collected some, knowing it could be useful for farming, or for fueling fires. It's messy work, but here, utility takes priority over dignity.
These creatures could be an excellent source of food. I'm growing tired of eating rabbit morsels, and the Beefalos, with their docile nature, present a tempting opportunity. Their size suggests a bountiful supply of meat, and they seem entirely unbothered by my presence, making them easy to approach. Tonight, I'll try my luck in hunting one. Surely, with their calm demeanor, taking down a lone Beefalo shouldn't be too difficult... right? Of course, there's a risk. If I provoke the herd, there's no telling how they'll react. But necessity drives innovation, and I must expand my food sources if I'm to prepare for the harsh winter ahead. There's only so much sustenance a man can derive from rabbits and berries.
Speaking of which, their behavior is fascinating. I've watched them for hours, grazing in large groups, almost like cattle. Their thick fur must protect them from the elements, which suggests they are well-adapted to colder climates. Could I possibly domesticate them somehow? Perhaps find a way to make use of their strength and size, beyond just as a source of meat?
But that's a question for another day. For now, I'll have to be content with observing them and preparing for tonight's hunt. My stomach growls at the thought of something more substantial than a string of rabbit morsels. If I'm successful, I'll have enough meat to last for days, and maybe I can even find a way to preserve it.
The only question is... how dangerous is a cornered Beefalo?