Starglow Basin a flag of red

@Soto

he follows soto’s scent, cutting through the quiet of the basin like a blade.

he finds soto where he expected. castel comes to a skidding halt before the coywolf, his ears whisking, head tilting downwards against a strong chest. but green eyes remain on soto's face, a twinkle held within them.

los lobos se levantan en el oasis. al este de nosotros, como dijiste. there is a sneer as teeth are unveiled behind black lips.

bonitos lobos. por suerte no atrapé uno solo.

castel returns. soto's lip curves inwardly as he contemplates the warm reception leto would draft for him that night.

he tells of wolves in the oasis. soto's brow furrows from the news.

neighbors at such a distance may be welcome -- or it may be the gathering forces of their recently dispelled enemy. soto cannot afford assumptions.

he levels a single-eyed stare in the distance where the pretty oasis dwellers gathered. amigo.. o enemigo?

soto's question draws him to pause. eyes of a snake flicking, among the man's face, searching him. as if he would hold the answers. castel dips eyes to the cold basin ground and hums a tune.

a pondering tune.

then, he draws a contemplative inhale. no lo sé. he shrugs, ears coming to perk with the sounds of their surroundings.

he draws tongue over fleshy mouth. son pequeños. ninguna amenaza por ahora.

as the man’s thoughtful tune unwinds like an added out into the swallowing desert air, soto’s gaze slides to the oasis in the distance. 

they may be small for now, but he knows one thing; an avalanche starts with a single stone. 

decisive, he turns back to the halcon. buen trabajo. mantenlos vigilados. sucking in a deep breath, envisioning safiya in his mind’s eye, soto speaks once more. cuando nos mudemos a luneshale, traéles un regalo.

content the man understood his assignment, soto began his long patrol of the highlands east.