Unlike the majority of the Kimaris family, Citlali was not prejudice towards wolves or hybrid coyotes. He hadn’t met any unpleasant canines that further changed his perspective. To his aunt, any wolf or coyote without the full blood of a coyote was considered a disgrace. Often the boy wondered what she would have done to him if he were not the true bred coyote he was. He knew that was one thing she enjoyed him for.
The Arbiter spoke immediately, breaking the silence brought forth by his canine nails leaving the wood. He could see the tightness of his face as gold eyes surveyed the limited work. Citlali nodded at his question, watching as the man rose with another plank of wood. His appearance claimed that he had been working since morning.
Citlali waited for further instruction, lingering by the established boards. He had never built anything by his self. Things had been made by his hands but never a fence. Doubt filled his mind as the boy tried strategize. If a fence was like a string of jewelry, he could easily weave a thick rope about the boards.
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