Sly Fox Sand Dunes The animal, the animal

The sun beat down on the endless expanse of golden sand, and Castel, perched atop a ridge of dunes, watched the horizon. Sharp eyes narrowed slightly, shifting from dune to dune across the outstretching sands.

Lizards scurried in the distance, tiny, quick bursts of movement that caught his attention briefly, before the distractions passed. Nothing worth chasing. Nothing worth his time.

His eyes flicked to the horizon once more. A shape, small and distant, passed near the edge of the dunes. He’d keep his distance for now.

Paws skirted down the dune he had settled himself atop, moving with a practiced precision. The sand felt comfortable beneath his paws. He had mastered these dunes long ago.

A wolf —

or perhaps a coyote?

Candle stood in the sands, a lizard hanging limply from her jaws, and watched the strange creature. She couldn't be sure what he was, exactly. Perhaps another abomination, that cursed crossing of wolf and coyote which could only spell tragedy.

The priestess held pity for such creatures, but little else. Still — pity was enough, sometimes. She crunched her lizard, still watching.

There.

Amongst the distant dunes, a small figure moved once more. She stood still amongst the gathering of winds and sands, her small form nearly enveloped by the great piles of sand.

There was a flash of something in Castel's eyes, a distant thing. Then, a smirk. He suddenly changed directions, moving with haste towards the brown, muddied form of the coyote.

He didn't stop. Even when he got closer, he kept moving towards her, almost as if he didn't intend to stop. Teeth bared, a vicious smile upon his maw.