The Pain of the Innocent

Kaena Lykoi · 02-07-2011, 06:59 PM

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Word Count :: 320 Big Grin

There had been relative quiet on the borders as of late, though the newcomers had begun to trickle in once again. They always seemed to come in waves; for long months, none would approach the skull-rimmed edges of the coyote territory, and then suddenly, three or four would show up within the span of a few days. The silver-shaded coyote had, as always, kept close watch on their borders. It was difficult in the winter, no doubt, but the Centurion refused to slack at her duties. She was not so old that she was incapable of performing them anymore -- it was simply a matter of keeping her struggles and difficulties secretive. The arthritis was nothing new; the stiffness in her joints had only seemed to increase with the passing of the winter months. Thankfully, the greens provided by her granddaughters and son were enough to keep her up and moving. The old hybrid did not think this was seen as a sign of weakness or pain, but she of course had no way to tell.

The coyote's nose twitched, and she tilted her russet muzzle back to the breeze, inhaling the sharp coldness of the air. Her remaining eye scanned the edges of their territory relentlessly, seeking the source of these strange scents. She started off at a slow walk, tracking after these unfamiliar scents. Though her pace was hardly blistering, there was a certain urgency to her step -- one of these scents was young, and as always, concern for the youth lingered in her. As the hybrid approached the young canine, she noticed the other scent-carrier was nowhere to be seen. Twisting her head this way and that with undue caution, the woman halted a good distance from the youth, her yellow-golden eye narrowed. “Are you alone, little one?” she asked, natural suspicion aroused at the thought of a carefully set trap, using a pup as bait.

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