Bearclaw Valley nostalgia

aha; there it was. "eastern border," he motioned. "trying to cut through stone and trees. but no one ever accused a coyote of being smart," the rex declared, blissfully unaware of his own distant heritage through a certain great-great.
he led them off at a lope, muzzle dipping twice before he had the scent and trotted to meet with teeth.
"you hunted them before then," he assumed. "nasty things. we're leaving their heads on the border."
almost, almost he asked if she wanted to gamble on that.