Kintla Flatlands ₐｗₒₒₒₒₒ!

Flick. Flick. Flick.

Shemesh’s twitching ears fanned sideways, then shot straight up into wakefulness. Wolves were howling in the distance, their song interrupting her restless sleep. She yawned, her jaws parting so the moon could see all of her off-white teeth, and tilted her head to the side; what was all the commotion about? Shemesh thought it was a single pack at first, until more voices joined the chorus from the opposite direction.

Moonlight filtered through the canopy and onto her awed face, having never heard anything like it before. She pushed herself back onto her haunches and listened. Even further away than the long, melodious wolf howls, Shemesh swore she could hear yipping coyote calls and even the higher-bitched baying of dogs. Shemesh wanted to sing too! There was no master to quiet her here, and only instinct to guide her.

Even if she was a dog sleeping at her master’s side tomorrow, she was a coyote braving the wilderness tonight. And shouldn’t a coyote sing?

Shemesh threw her head back and joined the wilds’ call. Maybe her master could hear the music, wherever he was — and maybe he would recognize her voice in it all and shout into the heavens too.