Overture Downs the lonely last page

Reggie's face remained blank as she stared at the snout protruding from the earth like some sort of root vegetable. The scene was disquieting, especially because of the peculiar, faint odor lingering about the place. Yet the young coyote felt no pity for the dead wolf, nor did her apprehension cross over into the realm of fear. In spite of her handicap, Regipre did not fear much these days, a byproduct of being enslaved to one of the wilderness's most indomitable predators.

She did not love Shardul. She didn't even like him, necessarily. But there were undeniable perks to her new life. For one, she was alive. In hindsight, she never would have made it on her own, even with her fishing skills. She would have starved or died of exposure if a predator hadn't gotten to her first. She owed the cougar her life. Her fear of him had hardened into respect as they perfected their con artistry. She might have been nothing more than a worm on a hook, yet anything that brought pain and suffering to wolves felt to her like justice.

Presently, the big cat had wandered off to pursue his rival. By now, it was mutually understood that Regipre would not attempt an escape and so Shardul sometimes left her behind to hunt, patrol or whatever it was that pumas did to pass the time. This left Reggie time to practice walking and running—she was making marked improvements—which was what she had been doing when she had stumbled across the partially buried corpse.

After staring for a while, the youthful coyote bent forward and sniffed at the dry, leathery nose. Somewhat mindlessly, Reggie's lips peeled back to expose her teeth as she gave the dark flesh a nibble. The texture was strange. She tugged, pale gold eyes blinking when the nose suddenly tore free, dangling from a bottom tooth.