The Colonial Conundrum: Let's level/domesticate the terrain symmetrically, please.

The domestic animals convene in a similar plane. 
Tipping stiff-legged antelope (Christ, Ceasar, are you serious).
The fox which holds a small flame above its nose directs the travelers off of the road and into the salivating swamps of the outlands.  In this case the city is disrupted, minimally, and remains in a symmetrical, cube-like state.  It dictates my actions in vast, subtle ways: my speed, direction, destination.  With a can of air I am able to distinguish the fire from the fables.  The primary dilemma lies in the mountains; for there are ubiquitous eyes with seeing dogs which infiltrate the foyer of my household daily. 
They are much detached from the general interests of our city.  I peered back upon them while leaning on the saloon.  They pelted disagreeable gazes in my direction, vice versa, I in theirs.  Antecedents aside, it was a mismatch.