Verdigris Ravine snout

Zoug's silent speech was as loud as words to Brac. He followed, he watched, he leaned in a his father cut the belly with surgical precision. It was here Brac found his own teeth shaky. Though he'd fine tuned his paws to paint the walls, he struggled to execute the same control over his incisors -

Not with top teeth but with bottom... he mused aloud, this one has taught Coyote hidden things. Now, Coyote tries!

Knowing he needed no practice catching lizards (for every Tribekin learned this before all prey), he glanced around for any Zoug had missed. But of course, his father had worked before pleasure and had prepared each one before closing his eyes to rest.

Hmm. Coyote must catch one first.

And he turned owlish eyes out to scan the shadows of the sundried rocks.

He would lie if he said he was not nervous. Though Brac slunk with the confidence of any headstrong teen, his father's gaze often pressed against him and filled his mind with thoughts as many as the desert sand. He was not Gaara, who bested him at every fight and spoke as Zoug spoke. How did his father think of him? The Cavetreader had not missed the small smile that passed along his father's lips. Perhaps that was telling enough -

- and perhaps not. A tail flickered from the shadows of the rock they stood on, and Brac descended with an an unbroken swoop.