Eyeseffendee

1

The feeling of isolation is enough to keep me company.

I've never really belonged to anything. Even the members of the Piedra tribe don't treat me as one of their own. Well, they treat me well enough, and they try to include me in everything, but I've never fit in just right. I'll never be a part of them.

The only place I felt at home was in the desert, miles away from camp. I knew I shouldn't wander so far; it's extremely dangerous, especially for a coyote my age. My step mother, Hare, would be fuming like a field fire if she found out how long my "walks" were. But it was the lesser of two evils. And it's not like I didn't know where I was going. I knew my way around and I intended on returning once I felt better.

I mostly hunted while out in the desert. And as far as I went, I never crossed the border. To a human with an untrained nose, they would look at the territory line that divided our tribes and just see a wide expanse of dry shrubs growing from the red sand, but any animal would see the line as a brand of fire, threatening even the smallest gnat who crossed the line. Our neighboring pack, the Fuegos, were diligent in marking their territory and they took the job very seriously. I stayed well away from the line; I wasn't brave enough to deal with the Fuegos.

By the time dawn was calling out, I decided to head home. As I crossed a ridge, the camp broke into view. As the morning light bit the horizon, an arrow of sunlight zipped across the Earth. It made the cold, dry air instantly warm. It was inviting for five seconds, then my pelt burned, remembering the unbearable scorch from yesterday.

Most of the tribe was awake, and they gathered in the hollow that made up our camp. A small stream flowed through a small arch, like a snake slithering through a ring, and crawled around the camp towards the South East. Little trees and shrubs huddled around the river. Caves, that were once air pockets in mud, made dens on the walls of the hollow.

Most of the tribe was awake in the hollow, eating breakfast before getting ready to hunt and mark the border. Everyone looked ready to go except Hare and Bat, but they weren't fit to walk or run very far. Bat was nearly a half-season pregnant, and Hare was getting joint aches. Her limp from loosing three toes to a rat didn't help either.

I walked down into the hollow and sat next to Sego. She was eating a small desert mouse in tiny bites. I grabbed a lizard and ate with her.

"I saw you come over the ridge. Did you go for a walk?" Sego asked.

"More or less." I said.

"Astor!" She yipped.

"What?" I asked. "I didn't go out that early. The moon was less than a paw's length above the western mountains. I got plenty of rest. And I can't sleep the last few hours of the night."

"It isn't safe out there during the night. I wouldn't want- uh, we wouldn't want you getting hurt."

I smiled a bit. She was one of the few coyotes in the Sonoran desert that actually cared about my well being, and the only one I've really liked. Of course, she'd never admit it, but she liked me back. Normally I'd pester her about it, but I let it go. I'd always know what she'd say and what she meant.

We ate in silence for a minute until she spoke again. "Did it rain at all?"

"A bit. It's going to rain a lot this next quarter-season or so."

"That'll be good till it floods. Remember last season?" Sego said.

"With the big flood after that thunderstorm? How could I forget? The whole hollow was a pond and that tree was nearly covered in water." I pointed to the short tree with peeling bark.