A thin sheet of frost covered the grass, sparkling white like crystals. Up ahead, where the clouds were a stormy gray and not even a peep of sunlight shed its luminous, warming rays of light onto the earth, rain began to spit down. At first, it was a light drizzle. Curtains of raindrops gently rippled through the air, turning the air bitterly cold. It seemed as though the sky was weeping. But after a few moments of this beautiful rain-dance, the clouds became darker, the sky melding from a light gray to a threatening dark blue. In truth it was early morning, but it already looked as though night was wrapping its menacing cloak around the world. The rain began to lash down like a whip, slashing the ground in rage, the sound of its impact ringing throughout the earth.
The silhouette of a wolf trudged through the storm. It was a small shadow, petite, yet it was easily distinguished as a mix-bred Coyote. She was drenched to the bone, her fur soaked and dripping wet, sagging down to her small black paws. Trees offered no cover from the rain as the female walked on, dragging herself, a sullen look scrawled across her countenance. She was shivering violently, her beady black eyes sad and forlorn. The once proud Coyote, the once aggressive and feisty female, was now a walking humiliation.
Her name was Raha. She was a wanderer, a Coyote mix-bred with a wolf. She was usually so confident, her beautiful features shining like an aura from her body. But now she was awaiting death, for how humiliated she was. She had gotten into a scuffle with a territorial male and had wound up with some nasty gashes and wounds. The rain washed away the blood that dripped off her body, and erased her scent so know predator could track her down - Raha was grateful for that. But then what, when the rain stopped? Weak, wounded and out in the open, she would seem like an easy meal. She wouldn't even have the energy to fight back. With a depressed sigh, the female walked on.
Walking. That was all she did these days. Walk from one place to another. When would the walking stop? Her pink tongue lolled out of her mouth like a ribbon. Her bushy tail dragged in the dirt, leaving a thin trail of mud behind her. Sheet lightning lit up the sky like a yellow blanket before disappearing again a second later. Thunder clapped, fork lightning struck the ground in a distance, an electric blue line of fury. Still Raha walked, not bothering to find shelter. She would risk it all - trust, faith, life - in the hopes of being electrified or...or...mauled by a bear and left for dead. She deserved that. She had been a fool to challenge that dominating male in his territory...a fool...
A sudden scent caught her full attention. It was faint, the rain overlapping most of its smell, yet still easily distinguishable. It smelt like...like...wolf, but not one wolf, a whole pack of them! Wolves! At once her tail began to slowly wag. Maybe there was hope for her after all. This was obviously the border. Another step and she would have crossed it. If she kept on walking and they found her...she shuddered and pushed that horrifying thought out of her mind. She hadn't crossed it. Instead of walking around it, maybe, she could sit down, howl and hopefully the noise would carry over the sound of lashing rain and be heard by the wolves. It was risky. They could be territorial or worse, viciously cruel cannibals. But there was no other choice she had. It was either now or ever.
Looking determined, Raha raised her head to the sky - and let out a long, beautiful, reverberating howl.

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Raha had never felt so relieved in her entire life. Her fur drooped down to her paws, her ears were pricked upon seeing Ezekiel. The female crossbred Coyote was usually stubborn, short-tempered and aggressive, her tongue sharper than a butcher's knife, but she knew when to bite it and play the 'flattering' game. After all, here was a pack of hybrids, just like her. She would be a fool to ruin her chance to be saved. Feeling sly and coy, Raha lowered herself slightly, although she absolutely hated submitting. She thought of it as a form of weakness, although she decided it was necessary in this situation. After all, high-ranking wolves of Coyotes seemed to wallow in such acts. Raha remembered how the fight with the dominant male wolf. He had tried to force her to be submissive. Raha was now submitting on her own accord; after all, she was a Coyote of her own mind and maybe a little too much free-will.
"I may have picked a hell of a time," Raha said with a lopsided smirk, "but hey, I'm not going to die of hypothermia out in this atrocious weather. Better late than never." She decided to press herself down even more, hoping not to sound rude.
The rain lashed out across her eyes, momentarily blinding her in a flurry of water. She supposed the drops were getting violent, as they did in a storm. For a moment she portrayed a sudden weakness; shivering with the cold, ears abruptly flattened against her head, eyes narrowed to tiny slits, glinting with pain and fear. But it was all over in a second, for Raha was not the type of Coyote to express her emotions and feelings clearly and fluently.

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