Verdigris Ravine muscle

the deset gave endless hares, lizards, mice, rats, and insects to the bellies of the tribe. they ate well and zoug dug caches between the ravine and the oasis.

but there was more here than flesh.

mesquite pods. prickly pear fruits, agave pulp, pinyon nuts; all these things, too, collected and stored.

he did not anticipate snow.

he anticipated conflict.

Talis didn’t really know where—or if, really—he fit in with The Tribe yet. It would take some time for him to get used to living in close quarters with others. Although it was strange and uncomfortable at times, he nonetheless enjoyed this opportunity to socialize.

He really wanted to get to know the women here, particularly one called S’ari. He’d heard she was some sort of de facto leader but she had been ill for quite some time. Of course Talisman wouldn’t bother her while she was still recuperating.

The pale yearling went looking for one of the others and found Zoug instead. The large, swarthy man couldn’t have been more different from Talis’s father. Yet perhaps he could teach Talisman some things, particularly about now to navigate life in The Tribe.

Hey, Zoug, the younger coyote greeted, approaching respectfully. I’ve seen you collecting all these items and burying them. I’m sorry if this is a stupid question but… Talis blinked. Why?

zoug was approached by a younger male. in the clan, it would be with deference and averted eye. but here it was less formal, though he could hear the question in the tonality.

the large coyote eyed the other with his single eye. "save for another time," he grunted, lifting a paw for the gesture 'another,' made deliberately where talisman could see.

the clan did not have a concept of future.

Ah, the yearling replied with a slight bob of his head, as if he understood.

But he still didn’t quite understand why Zoug needed to save these things for later. Talisman had never cached meat, as he was always on the move. Whatever he couldn’t eat from any given kill was left for the birds and other scavengers. The concept of stashing wasn’t one he’d ever entertained before.

I guess it’s handy to have snacks set aside, in case you have a hard time finding food, he worked out aloud, but what about the other objects? The plants and such? What’s their use?

"for hunger times. you eat," zoug said of the pinyon nuts, for instance, miming how they could be cracked between one's molars.

"know plants is good."

the desert was an eternal provider, but it could demand a price from its denizens.

The way Zoug gnashed his teeth made Talisman stare for a beat before he comprehended what he was trying to demonstrate. His words further clarified, prompting the younger coyote to chew thoughtfully on the inside of his cheek.

I’ve eaten some berries before, he shared, thinking briefly of Winston, but I can’t say I’ve tried eating many other plants. Maybe, Talis continued, hesitating briefly before continuing, you could teach me about them? Which plants are good to eat? And which ones aren’t?

He remembered the time he and his dad had come across a fat, dead marmot. Young Talis had thought they’d found an easy meal. But the lack of wounds had given his father pause and he’d explained that it might’ve ingested something toxic. Indeed, there had been bits of plant matter stuck in its teeth.

He would not soon forget that lesson. Perhaps Zoug could pick up where his dad had left off. Talis’s pale eyes lingered inquisitively on the older man’s face, careful not to stare directly into his single eye.

how did a young tribekin not know such things?

zoug judged, but then told himself that talisman was young. he must not have seen the way of wolves.

"i show," he grunted, turning away from his cache and trotting in the direction of where he had gathered mesquite pods. "eat," he said of them, turning his eye on the other coyote.

he gestured toward the horizon. "many wolf comes. many paws — send prey to run. we catch. we save for later."

Talis said nothing, simply nodded and followed the older coyote’s lead. They approached a small pile of what looked like dead, petrified snakes. His ears fell back, though upon closer inspection, he realized they were a stem of some sort. At least, that was his closest frame of reference.

When instructed to eat, he hesitated. They smelled strongly, though not in an appealing way like berries did. Their shape also flummoxed him a bit. What if one got struck in his throat? Talis glanced at Zoug, then dipped his head down, his lips forming a strange moue as he sucked one pod into his mouth like a noodle.

Zoug said something but Talisman didn’t quite hear over the sound of his own crunching. The textures surprised him, especially when his fangs sliced through the fibrous casing and released several small beans into his mouth. He quickly ground them into mush, though the casing did not break down so easily.

Despite his emphatic chewing—and the strange faces he pulled whilst doing it—he simply couldn’t swallow it. Talis ended up spitting it out at his feet, smacking his lips a little as he raised his head and gave Zoug an apologetic glance.

zoug's single eye flickered with something unreadable.

he found the spitting wasteful. but the younger tribekin did not know any other ways. they had come from many places.

he grabbed another pod. he used a claw to puncture the outside layering and licked the seeds out from inside. they were not better than meat, but they would fill a belly.

a scorpion trundled away from the coyotes. he glanced at talisman and inclined his head. eat that instead.

He thought he saw disapproval on Zoug’s face, though Talisman realized he wasn’t very adept at reading expressions. He licked his lips and took a step back when the elder did a demonstration on how to properly ingest the beans, which involved extracting them from the pod first. Why hadn’t he started with that? Talis wondered but didn’t ask.

While he was contemplating a second try, Zoug drew his attention to some sort of insect scuttling across the dry earth. The yearling sucked in a sharp breath, fighting the urge to bound away. It reminded him of a spider, though it was somehow scarier. It had claws, for gods’ sake! And was that a stinger on its back too?

He looked to Zoug in disbelief, asking incredulously, You want me to eat that? He didn’t want to disappoint him, though Talis’s insides twisted at the mere thought. Sorry, man, but there’s no way. What if it pinches me? Or stabs me? Or both?

sorry for his we walked uphill in snow two ways mentality lollll <3

the boy was repulsed. zoug slammed a hard paw onto the scorpion's back, lower upon the carapace so the tail could not rise.

as the arachnid scrabbled in the sand, the coyote nipped off its stinger and spat it aside, then dug his teeth into the space behind its head.

the shell was stripped, the meat consumed.

zoug looked at the younger coyote. in the clan, his bloodkin had accessed their instincts collectively; they did not need to be reminded. this one was almost of breeding age and did not know the things pups understood.

"who is mother?" zoug asked in his guttural voice. "who father?" who raised you without this knowledge?

he did not think to consider in depth that talisman had been born in another biome, that he would never have seen scorpions or mesquite pods. to zoug's rather binary mind, foraging and hunting were latent skills and it was dysfunctional not to have them.

he pointed to a snake winding away. that too was food, and skin besides.

Talis jumped when Zoug slammed down a paw, crushing the scorpion beneath it. He didn’t think he could ever forget the hideous, wet crunching noise it made. His horror only mounted as the elder began tearing it apart and eating it. The yearling could only watch in morbid fascination, his insides rolling.

After Zoug was finished with his snack, he looked up at Talisman and barked several questions at him. The yearling went very still as he tried to parse not just the inquiries but the man’s tone. He seemed annoyed, which made sense. Talis wasn’t being the best student at the moment.

I don’t— he began, then became distracted when Zoug pointed out a snake.

He didn’t mind them as much as creepy arachnids, though their movements inevitably reminded him of otters. Or perhaps it was the other way around. In any case, Talis wasn’t very eager to go after this prey, either. But at least he recognized it. And he couldn’t stand the idea of continuing to disappoint his instructor.

Sucking in a breath, Talisman pounced toward the snake. He managed to pin it beneath one russet paw, though it began wriggling wildly as his weight pressed against it. He knew he should aim for the head but it was moving so rapidly, he didn’t get a chance to shift his grip before it struck at him. It missed by a hairsbreadth, the quick motion evoking an instinctive swipe from the young coyote.

Somehow, he managed to wrangle and dispatch the snake. He didn’t even get bitten! Breathing a little hard, Talis let the serpent fall limp at his feet as he glanced up at Zoug, eager for approval.

No, we love it! This interaction is very fun to write. :)

me too!

he would not receive it. he would only receive less anger than zoug had given, a visible reduction of the older man's annoyance. talisman must be treated like a pup, he saw, in order to learn organically what a child of the desert would know.

he lifted another claw and flipped the snake over, exposing the pale underbelly. he pointed to where a cut could be made, and then the creature pulled out of its skin.

zoug grunted at the rattle clustered upon the snake's tail. he pointed toward the head of the skinned reptile, its fangtips exposed in a death hiss. "poison." no word for it besides a gesture, though he made a show of sniffing its mouth. if talisman did the same, he would be greeted by a sharp tint of the venom against the musk of the serpent itself. zoug made the paw-sign again for poison and nodded.

the older man chewed off the snake's head. he would carry its body back to the ravine, and the skin now belonged to the boy.

the desert did not wait and neither did zoug, his trot direct and swift.

Talisman took a step back, deferring to the man he felt to be his superior. If he wanted the meat, then the yearling wasn’t going to argue. But instead of eating it, he performed an assessment of the dead snake. Talis watched in rapt silence, moving only when it was made clear he should also scent the creature’s anterior.

He recoiled again when Zoug sawed off the head with his teeth. Wasn’t he afraid of getting poisoned? Talis’s lips parted to ask, though before the question could spring off the tip of his tongue, the elder coyote had claimed the cylindrical flesh and disembarked.

The pale yearling looked down at the discarded skin, then back up at Zoug’s retreating figure. He frowned. He had the distinct feeling he’d done something wrong and displeased his elder. Talis had much to learn—and to prove—if he was going to fit in with The Tribe.

Okay, see you, he said to no one, making no move to collect the skin as he turned to go.

But something made him double back and gather it in his teeth. He sensed Zoug wanted him to have it. Trying not to think too hard about what was in his mouth, Talis trotted off to do… something with it. Perhaps he would bury it, like the tribesman had shown him.