Valley of Gold a voice

tamar was out of practice.

the desert came naturally to mind and spirit but not so for body.

she did not pursue but drew up sharply, flanks fluted with her breath, and called for zulema to do the same. "in the forest, in the mountains, on the plateau, you run. you chase, hard and fast. not here." 

the sun burned down. "you will exhaust yourself more quickly than that rabbit and there is no water to easily find if you go too far from this field."

she took another drink, then faced where the tracks led. meeting zulema's eye, tamar took up a trotting gait not unlike that of a coyote, one that would not tire them so fast.

she loped out across the sand, letting the field fall away behind.