Two Eyes Cenote I can only think to say:

Anselm ducked under the arm of a low hanging cactus. A voice sounded behind him: no doubt the owner of the trailing call Anselm had heard earlier.

He slowed his steps, casting a glance behind him. In his sights he held the full frame of a skulking coyote; a knife of annoyance cut through his blood.

Anselm had lived a year without encountering a coyote, and yet in these last few weeks it seemed the hills crawled with them. He did not feel the need to be defensive quite yet, for this one kept a respectful distance -- but he was reminded of Meridian, and his eyes narrowed.

Vhat do you vant?