Luneshale Pass Realization grew on me

Wolf.

Or something of the sort. Something canine. The shale was scratched over by nails. Fresh white scratches piled sand that had yet to be fully blown off by the winds. Legend sunk into the darken lands with a low body. Slinking, slinking, cackling with a feral whine and swishing a lowly tail. 

Maybe the coyotes had found their way close to akashingo. She couldn't tell. There was only a burning scent up her nose, and the comparison of pressed paw prints against the likes of the imp's own. Dwarfed by some, and not by others. They could've been a very large fox's. It was frustrating in a way that drew out gritted breaths, not understanding and not knowing. But she enjoyed life best by slithering into a lions mouth.

A paw lifted, and she limped.

A trail had become apparent in the dirt. It was not yet scoured by the wind, which meant Thiago had earned some favor from the spirits. He followed the path doggedly, as he had so many others (not knowing that he was the cause of many, and he had in fact gone in a circuitous manner among the mesa stones and across the shalepath).

He chattered to himself as he went. Lowly, underbreath, sometimes just to hinge the jaw out of habit. Chewing thoughts. Tasting the recollection of green on his tongue; yearning, nothing more.

Cue a stage whisper to Carlos, except his brother wasn't there. As Thiago's head lifted (crocodilian) and he saw a shape hobbling along, he thought for sure this was the way he must go - the spirit led him!

Footsteps grew increasingly louder from behind before they came to a slow. She did not turn around, no, but instead continued to limp around like a dying rat and made excessive ticking noises with her whining mouth. Feral, and wishing to suck in an entity closer. Maybe, even, if only for her own desires or just to taunt death a little further with whatever remaining lust she had for life.

That was, at least, something more entertaining than the miles of sand combed through.

Her head flipped only around when her pit-pats took her farther, and her tail swished violently between her legs, inviting. Foggy eyes to the citrine of anothers.