Redsand Canyon Hey, you’re a crazy bitch

He rode into the canyon on the wings of the bleeding sun.

The land was red, redder than any land Robbie had ever seen. A labyrinth of towering spires of scorched and wind-beat sand. The deserts down south paled in comparison, and Robbie wondered if he had finally found the place he'd heard only whispered in fables.

His spine tingled at the prospect, and he knew he should be careful; he could hear ma's voice, as if she'd brushed up close like she'd always done, and was shrieking into his ear like she would've done as he'd left, if he hadn't announced his departure in front of the entire wild west - but he knew her eyes must be twinkling now, in jealousy, probably, that she'd never found the nerve to get out here herself.

A water mirage twinkled along the sands, and now and again, Robbie thought he saw movements, and every now and again, he set out to investigate. And that's what he set himself to follow now - a particularly strange mirage, of a wolf who seemed to have no place among the sands.