There had been others, like Hezeikah, who had come to Inferni with nothing. And they had all grown strong, most leaving, but capable of handling themselves. Gabriel felt no ill towards them, though he might have once had such a place in his heart, because as long as coyotes survived and remembered who had given them that ability, Inferni’s place was made. They had long been established, but whether or not the name of the clan was carried on the wind was beyond him. Certainly, it must have been. Coyotes had, after all, come asking for it by name.
Hezekiah, like the others, was a blank slate. He was young and had no need to find purpose beyond his basic survival skills. Until now. “Most people learn from watching others,” he explained, having done the same himself. Watching, then doing. Everything came down to experience and education, in the long run. Gradually, an idea came to the Aquila, and his eyes darkened as they focused on his younger companion. “If you’re quiet,” he began, speaking slowly as if the thoughts were still forming. “And fast, we have a need for eyes and ears.” For spies—for information that muscles and brute strength could not gain.
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