Coyotes: Denis

Chapter 6: Reunion

(A/N: This chapter, and the next, will be an overview of the story so far from Benoit's perspective. More on that in Part 7. Enjoy!)

I shouldn't take it upon myself to do this.

It's not like it's every day, but lately I feel myself gravitating towards those well-beaten paths to keep a watchful eye.

What's changed? Well, she has.

Like a child, I cling to the brief memories of my first friend in this life. I remember, vaguely, the pudgy pup that would come to our house all bundled up, wailing and drooling with eyes shut and ears folded over.

I remember running about with a bright and squealing toddler, not much younger than me, hot on my heels, both of us without a care in the world.

And, I remember kicking a ball between the two of us near the cemetery during the memorial... Too young to understand, but old enough to know we didn't want to.

In the years that followed, my mom kept me on a short leash. She was afraid to lose me, too. And she was afraid of dealing with anyone else's grief, and so she distanced herself from Denis' mother, Lanette.

I was sent to camps, seminars, and kept close the professional circle that my dad had entered to gain the skills of a man of our kind.

There was very little time as a young pup that I spent at home, and when I was away I was expected to be more mature and capable than others my age.

When I was able to settle down back in the village, it seemed like the fame and prosperity that my dad's accomplishments had brought had been sucked dry. Like it died with him. The rift between people's lifestyles was astounding, and heartbreaking.

Some of my feelings are based in guilt... How could I have so much, when the widow and pups of my dad's right-hand-man were living off of scraps?

One of the first times I saw Denis was out here in the wilds. It was a few years ago, when her mother was pregnant with a deadbeat's pup and she had to start providing for her family. As a child.

I only knew this much from village gossip that had been circulating.

I almost didn't recognize her. She seemed so frail, compared to the bright and chubby pup she used to be. Her coat was a perfect match for the hot, dry sand of the desert. If it wasn't for the dark pack on her back, I would have had a hard time spotting her. It would be impressive, but it seemed like she was so small she could just disappear.

She had no idea what she was doing, but she was determined.

I felt in my heart, that I owed it to her family to make sure that she was safe and well. Even if only from a distance.

***

I felt like a fool. How had I not seen that damn snake?

A grunt escaped me as I adjusted her dead weight on my back. She was wrapped up like a pup, with the sheet tied over my chest and shoulder to keep her in place and help distribute the weight.

She had gone out so far, the Sun was starting to set before we even made it back home.

Sometimes, she would come out of it, and she would mumble and mutter incoherently.

Other times, she would say nothing. Instead, I felt her dry nose press into my back and take in deep breaths for a while before her body went slack once again.

If it weren't such a dire situation, I wouldn't mind taking in that feeling for as long as I could. Times like these reminded me of how touch-starved my life left me.