Hoshor Plains shots and squats

His first daughter regarded him calmly, curious despite the evident stoicism on her face. He found humor in this, and it drew the corner of his mouth into a faint smile. Perhaps she had inherited his capacity for a blank expression. It had served him well, and would serve her well if she did not spend her life here. If he could...

The second one noticed him then, and leaped back with a wail, bundling up against her sister. Perhaps most would have frowned at this, had hoped for their offspring to have a stronger backbone, more boldness, but he thought differently. He was a coyote, and he liked what he saw. What began as fear could be tempered into calculated caution, and that was one of the cornerstones of his species' survival strategy.

He did not move. He remained as he was, watching, assessing.