Coyote Dawn: Bleeding Sunrise (PROLOGUE)

A lone, silhouetted figure slipped out from under the moon’s gentle gaze.

He glanced up. Barbed thornbushes half-obscured his view of the ghostly moon and the blackening sky blanketed it with the dark promise of rain. The coyote shivered, knowing he wasn’t going to get much sleep tonight. As fearless as he seemed, his legs and tail were both quivering. He stepped cautiously, like he expected a venomous snake to be thrown in his path. His tongue snaked out, swiping around his jaws . . . then he tipped his head towards the sky and called out softly. His voice was light, his tone tentative. But the animal who was meant to acknowledge it heard him loud and clear.

“Toref? I was expecting you.” A beautiful canine- a hyena- departed from the shadows. Her smooth, short sandy-colored fur was marked with black patches, and her eyes were shaded with many colors from gold to amber to bronze. “You send letters every day, always signed ‘my love’ and marked with a raven’s feather. You described danger. But where?”

The coyote swung his fearful gaze around the clearing, before turning to meet the hyena’s hard stare. “I don’t know, Corena. Just feeling . . . uneasy.” He admitted, shuffling his paws uncomfortably. His voice was higher-pitched than one would expect from a coyote of his size, though still tinged with humor and a touch of sarcasm that his accent only partially covered. Each shadow out of the corner of his eye looked like a grasping hand, reaching for his throat, dragging him down into a freshly marked grave with his name . . .

“You mean paranoid!” She scoffed making him jump high enough to clear a small shrub. She pranced over to lick at his muzzle and ears. “Lighten up, ya big waste of whiskers!”

But he couldn’t share her carelessness, even as she sauntered around him, smirking. “Come on, let’s go for a walk!”

“No.” His tone was firm. “I don’t trust the woods.”

“You’re no fun!” The hyena, or Corena rolled her eyes. “Fine. We can be overly cautious together.” She planted her slim paws in the earth, put her muzzle up in a high-ranking way, then swished her tail elegantly. “Please?”

“No.”

And there they waited, the coyote jumping at the slightest rustle of leaves.

There was something different about this part of the forest. The birds didn’t sing, the wind didn’t playfully shoot past the branches, and even though the trees bore thick bunches of dark colored nuts and the thorn bushes presented pawfuls of bright crimson berries, not a single squirrel was in sight.

The coyote’s ears twitched. A single stubborn flick, confirming that there was a noise that could not be ignored. The snap that could have been branches breaking . . . or bones. That dark splotch on the ground that could have been water from last night's rain . . . or blood. And that fresh earth littering the ground that looked suspiciously like-

The coyote spun, his heart faster than jackrabbit's footsteps. His black fur was so spiky he might have been mistaken for a melanistic porcupine. “Corena. We have to go. This place isn't-”

He never finished his sentence.

The hyena was gone.

“CORENA!” He screamed. He didn’t care who heard him. He had to find her! He’d promised to keep her safe!

“Toref, ya idiot!” came the hyena’s unmistakable voice from a twisted pine tree. “I’m right here! You don’t have to shout!”

“Riiiight.” He said slowly, pretending to believe his own words. “Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.”

In his heart, he couldn’t have believed it less.