Spotted Eagle Mountain changing winds

For @Anselm, if you have time, but AW! Backdated to around August 15th.

Meridian was still unnerved after the attack. She made a beeline for the desert, trying to avoid dense woods, where she could be ambushed. She wasn't too far from the Sleepy Fox Hollow, but Meridian decided that it would be best to avoid that territory. She had no appetite for more trouble. As she climbed higher in altitude, she fluffed up her fur from the cold. Autumn was almost here, she could sense it in the wind.

Anslem had sought high ground earlier that morning. At noon’s summit the heat became oppressive — Anselm sought respite under a rocky outcropping. 

Here he could watch the world go by and conserve some of his energy. For a while he studied the birds and listened to the drone of insects — but it was a small speck in the distance that drew his eye. 

It threaded through patches of greenery at a steady clip. As it drew closer Anselm recognized its form as canine; he kept his attention turned to them, wondering what hastened them but too lazy to investigate himself.

The sun glared down further. No bother for the priestess, who had grown up in the desert heat. The greenery began to change into large rocks and boulder fields. For once, the traveler began to feel lost. she spied an outcrop a distance away, and sped up her trot. It would work as a vista point. Meridian was unaware of any eyes watching her.

The roles were reversed now, though Anselm didn’t know it. He watched as she climbed steadily upward - would she see him?

Eventually his laziness gave way to general interest. Anselm recognized her as a coyote. If nothing else, he could get useful practice out of her. 

He rose and threaded his way between the exposed rocks, keeping to the shade to better hide his form. Unfortunately, the wind blew against him — carrying his scent downhill towards Meridian.

The sun was on her side. Meridian caught the scent of wolf on the breeze. It wasn't strong enough to tell her the individual, distance, or even pinpoint a location. But she wasn't stupid. The rocks provided ample hiding places, and so she paused. Waited. When no wolf came bursting down the hill, she resumed her trek, a bit more cautious.

An invisible hand worked against him. Anselm froze midstep, mimicking Meridian as she paused and scanned her surroundings. 

His nose twitched. If his was a powerful tool, hers was no doubt sharper. He did not move until she commenced her trek — ducking behind each rock as he drew closer and closer.

Sorry for the wait!

The scent kept getting stronger. It reminded her of the Sleeping Fox Hollow wolves. Was it the kindly cream yearling. Or the aggressive ashen one. There was a wolf here for sure, but where. Meridian called out in a suspicious voice. Anyone there?

The winds changed and scoured the plains with his scent. Anselm cursed behind the shield of a rock, ears cocked as the coyote spoke. 

Her query went unanswered. A thrill thrummed in Anselm’s heart to be the unseen hunter: he continued inching closer, eyes hungrily on the increasingly suspicious Meridian. 

Would she see him before he pounced?

Meridian caught a sight of grey fur, vanishing behind a rock. Her heart began to beat quicker. It was him, wasn't it. The scent said it was loud and clear. Meridian took the risk and bolted, the boulder field was getting scarce of rocks, and if she could make it to the summit, she would have a better view. The coyote tried to remain in between the rocks as she ran, as she wasn't aware which one concealed the wolf.

Now came Anselm's finest joy: pursuit.

The coyote had gotten wind of him and skirted up the summit. Her steps were agile and quick -- she was swiftly out of view and concealed behind the tumbled rocks of the great plateaus.

Anselm followed his nose. His heart quickened, as did his pace -- he was a cursorial creature built for the long running accustomed to his kind. It would do little good to expend all his energy in one session.

Loping at an easy pace uphill, Anselm kept his gaze trained on his prize.

She saw him. With a frightened yip, she turned around and bolted. Spending stamina, trying to get as far away as she could. This place was off limits. Was there anywhere free of threats. The spiritualist longed to be back home, the Sundom, far from predators and primative canines.

<3

Now that Meridian's pace changed to a full sprint, Anselm realized he would not catch her.

His steps slowed as Meridian's form darted out of view. 


He supposed if he wanted to play the long game he could follow her trail -- but who knew where that would lead? He'd learned a thing about fleeing coyotes -- they often fled back to their packmates. Even a collective show of teeth from something as small as a band of coyote could present Anselm with injury.

He resigned himself to an empty stomach that night, and made back down towards the canyon.

Last from me <3

She watched as his grey shape retreated into the distance, disappearing. The yearling took the moment to catch her breath. She wouldn't show her face here again for some time. Safe. For now. The dessert awaited.