Encountering, and escaping, not one but seven coyotes was enough adventure for one day. Although he had taken he cowardly way out, Sachiel knew that fighting the coyotes would not have been the wisest idea. He wasn’t looking to be scolded by his leaders, even though he already knew he was going to receive a verbal lashing for patrolling beyond the shallows on his own. However, he couldn’t keep his findings to himself, even if it meant getting into trouble. He had to notify the Edge Lords of the two separate groups of coyotes he had encountered during his very long day with Mudpie.
Leaving the hazel-eyed girl to her personal quest had been harder than he anticipated—mostly because he was worried that she would encounter another group of coyotes without him. But, he knew that she wasn’t (fully) stupid; she could take care of herself. It wasn’t at all because he was going to miss her, or continue to worry about her. Heck no. He’d likely forget about her in a week or so. Maybe even sooner.
Except, for a boy with photographic memory, forgetting someone was nearly impossible. Especially when they had exciting memories paired alongside their faces.
He meandered toward the Edge Lords’ separate den, his head hanging low as he adopted a more submissive stance. The boy knew he looked like a mess—his fur was still caked with mud—but he couldn’t wait to deliver the news. Sooner the better, he kept telling himself as he trudged through the forest, his tail swinging idly behind him. His nose twitched as he approached the entrance of the den, his chin canted to the side as he let out a soft woof to see if anyone was home…