Redsand Canyon the death of orchids

the coywolf prowled down the first ledge.
merrick had come from ursus, all the way, all the way, with heat ticking his skin and the ache for donovan's neck clutched thickly in his jaws.
a second ledge.
and so he had spun out from his home, come across the valley and the stone, 
a third ledge, dropping spiderlike into the stale canyon —
come to find nothing, no scent of the saints, no reek of the tiger. disappointment swelled in his chest, tight and angry and nauseating.