Hoshor Plains and no one's going to save you from the beast about to strike

@Tomahawk

His eyes narrowed on a coyote as it harried a fox, whom was guarding the carcass of a rabbit. Time and time again the larger canine would dart in, nipping at the fox, drawing blood and draining its energy, until the fox decided the rabbit was no longer worth the effort. It fled, and to his surprise the coyote pursued it. It overcame the smaller, red-furred creature easily and killed it. He watched then, as the coyote towed the fox across the plain, leaving the rabbit behind.

The shadow gathered the rabbit in his mouth, and stole after the coyote. He kept himself low, slipping among the tallest of the grasses. To his advantage, the sun was just about set and the plain was almost entirely wreathed in darkness. One tail-length at a time he gained on the purebred. He was drawing close, besting the 'master' at his own game of stealth and cunning, when the coyote started to slow. He dropped the rabbit and struck. The old coyote was too late in realizing it was being hunted, and within moments the coywolf's long fangs had pierced its throat.

Its cries were garbled by blood as it kicked and writhed in his jaws. The fox lay off to the side, dropped when the coyote first saw his death lunging from the brush. Its limp, red-furred form partially concealed the den the coyote had been taking it to.