Rising Sun Valley [m] We'll wish for weightless knees

For a moment, the coywolf mirrored her in a bow, his tail wheeling in the air. It slowed when she turned away from him, and his eyes narrowed as he rose only halfway to stalk closer.

Half-hidden by the grasses, Dusty Rose froze, waggled, and sprang. His long legs launched him in a high, narrow arc. He landed with another high kick of his hind paws, close enough to reach out and grab his prey. With the feather still clutched in his jaws, however, he could only growl an almost-playful threat and jab his snipy muzzle into her spine. His incisors scraped against her skin, pinching, before the dance separated them once more.

Dusty Rose performed a whip-like pirouette that ended in a one-footed hop. The arc of his body was highlighted in gold by the sunlight, suspended for an improbable moment in mid-air.