Table of Contents: click to goto chapter
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7

Chapter 1

This is a story of a little kit fox named Sandy Scragtail.  She went out into the desert in search of food.  She walked for hours in the hot sandy, scrubby desert.  When she thought she was done for, Sandy found a huge berry bush underneath a large tree.  She leaped and yapped with glee because her stomach would finally be full.  But with dismay as she looked around, she didn't know where her home was.

This desert wasn't a sandy desert with huge sand dunes for miles around.   Instead, she saw a desert full of rocks, sand, shrubs, and cacti.

She should've remembered her path, or told someone were she was going.  Sandy was scared and lost.  She sat down, held her tail, and started to cry.

"What's goin' on here, m'lady?" said a voice like a whisper.

Sandy Scragtail leaped to her feet with a yelp.  Backing away from the tree she'd been sitting under, she looked around.  But there was nobody there.  Gently, with a paw pressed to her chest, she spoke, "Who said that?"

"I did, doggy!" said the whispery voice.

The voice sounded like it came from up in the tree.  Sandy looked up into the tree for its source.  There on one of the branches, she spied a little lizard reclining on the branch of the tree, its arms behind its head.  "Who are you, little lizard?" she asked the reptile.

"My name's Johnny.  Johnny Skink.  And you are?" Johnny queried, with a raise eyebrow.

"Sandy Scragtail, sir lizard.  I'm lost and I don't know how to get home."

The little, striped lizard squirmed around on the branch until he found a more comfortable position in which to talk to this desert fox.  She is a desert fox, a creature of the desert, and she was lost.  The desert fox scratched her paw impatiently.  The lizard scratched his little chin.   "How did you become lost, little fox of the desert?  I mean, a creature of the desert such as you and me are at home anywhere in the desert.  So, how're you lost?"  He raised both eyebrows at her as though he'd imparted a great piece of wisdom, which he believed.

Sandy looked at him, her head cocked to the side.  "I may have lived my life in the desert, but this is a strange and unfamiliar place to me.  Home is not scary.  It's a place to feel safe in."  Sandy fell silent for a moment.  She sighed and sat down with her back to the tree and the little lizard.

The little lizard settled his head on his hand and looked down at the fox's back.  "So, you don't like my home?"  He raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

After a moment of silence, the sun getting lower on the horizon, she turned her head to look at the lizard.  "No.  Your home's nice, but it's not my home and the sun's setting.  I have to get home before dark, or I might not find my way.  Don't you see?" she said with urgency.  After all, it would be dark soon, and she didn't want to be out after dark.

The lizard seemed to understand her plight.  He had scurried down the tree and over to a rock near her.  As he crawled under the rock, she heard his voice drift out from under, "Would you like some tea, miss?"  She couldn't believe her ears.

So, she tried another approach.  If this doesn't work, I'll find my way home by myself.  She just didn't know which way to go.  "You don't seem to understand.  I want to go home."  No reply.  It seemed that the lizard didn't hear her.

When all of a sudden, she heard him say, "You don't like my home?"  She thought she heard a little note of hurt in that little voice.

Sandy made up her mind.  She didn't want to hurt this little lizard's feelings.  "No no, I'll have some tea with you for a little bit.  But, I can't stay long.  I must get home before dark."  She sat down on the ground next to the lizard's rock.

The lizard poked his head out and cocked his head to the side.  "You won't make it back before dark."  The lizard's head vanished beneath the rock.

"How do you know how far I walked?  You know where I live?"  Sandy asked, peeved that the lizard wasn't telling her which way to go; but instead, he was wasting the time she could've taken to get home.

The lizard popped out from under the rock with a cup of tea, about the size of an acorn.  He offered one to the vixen, as though he had not heard her questions.

"If you're not going to tell me which way to go, I'll find my way."  Sandy was getting hot tempered over this.  She just wanted to go home, but this lizard won't talk.   She started to get up and leave.  And stopped when the lizard spoke.

"It's not a good idea to leave now.  The Jackals are loose after dark."  The lizard paused to take a sip of his tea.  "Good tea, isn't it?"

"Jackals?  There's no jackals, here.  This is a quiet place, except for an occasional mean-spirited coyote.  I can easily get away from them."  Sandy said.  She began to suspect the lizard had been sitting in the hot sun a little too long today.

The lizard drank noisily of his tea, refilled it, and spoke up softly, "These jackals came down out of the north and rooted themselves deeply into our desert, sometime back.  I don't know when.  But, they came here unsuspecting, hiding far into the sandy desert where nothing grows.  They come out at night prowling for sacrifices and food to take back to their temple."  He paused and sighed.  Sandy sat quietly, too shocked to speak.

After a time, she sighed.  "What am I to do, if what you say is true?"  Sandy looked out over the scrubby plains.  Would it be possible for me to get home now?  I traveled all that way here, but not in a straight line.  It could be just over that rise there.  She contemplated over this, almost philosophically.

Until her thoughts were interrupted by the lizard's astonishing remark, "You should not leave tonight.  The jackals are out.  And you live too far to make it home before they get you."  Sandy turned toward him, shocked that he knew what she thought.  The little lizard pointed towards his rock, "please, why don't you come in.  It is safe here."

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly fit in there, Mr. Lizard.  But, thank you," she said, astonished that he would even think of the idea considering she was far larger than he was and could never fit under that rock.

The lizard cocked his head to one side in a curious sort of way a puppy looks when confused.  "Come now.  Do step in before the sun sets."

Chapter 2

"Oh, where did it go?"  Sabber muttered.  The black and brown coyote punched the ground, frustrated that he lost his prey.  "Grrr!  That bites.  He won't be happy when he hears this."  Sabber paced back and forth trying desperately to pick up the trail.

"Huh, did ya say something, Sabby?"  Johan whispered.  This young, gray coyote had been searching around a bush.  He shook off the dust from the chase, certain that the chase was over.  This wasn't the first time they've lost dinner.  It sure wouldn't be the last.

"Papa's sure to kill us for this."  Sabber ducked his head and listened intently to some scuffle.  "Get down!  Listen."  He whispered harshly to Johan.  "Hear that?"

"Yeah, let's get 'em."  Johan replied.  Both crept towards the sound to investigate.  Neither expected to see what they saw.

Beyond the bush the two hid behind, several jackals were herding the coyotes' prey, a rabbit, off towards the dunes.  The coyotes looked at each other confused at what was transpiring.  "What are they doing, Sabby?"  Johan cocked his head quizzically.

"They're stealing it!  That's what they're doin'," replied Sabber.   "Them strangers need to learn us coyotes is the bosses around here.  They can't go stealin' our food from under our noses in our territory.  They gonna learn real quick."  He punched the ground, knocking up a bit of dust.

"Yeah, they're scrappy-looking.  Let's get'em!"  Johan yelps.  But before he could leap to his feet, a large dark paw clubbed him on the side of his head.  The last he saw was a tall dark jackal.

Sabber was more fortunate.  He surrendered without a fight.  Father's gonna hate this.  The jackals led Sabber and carried his brother along the path the rabbit was taken.

Sabber hung his head, there was far too many of them to fight and win.  He heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head.  How could they have surrounded him and his brother without either of them noticing.  He heaved another sigh, this one of helplessness, as the jackals led them into the desert.

Chapter 3

Sandy Scragtail woke the next day, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed so to speak.  She was brimming with anticipation of seeing her home, where it was safe.  Looking around, she noticed that the little lizard, so cryptic in his answers, was nowhere to be found.  This actually unnerved her.  She was left here sleeping by herself in the open.  She heaved a sigh of relief, lucky that no other beast came during the night.

Well, she couldn't wait around for the lizard to return so that she could bid him farewell.  He'll just have to forgive her for that.   Sandy stood up and gathered up her basket that had once, until last night, held berries and other tasty morsels she had collected the day before.  Again, she sighed.  She can find some more on her way home.

The sun had already begun to scorch the desert ground as she left the little lizard's tree.  She had not gone far when a tiny, little voice caught her attention.  "What?  Doggy say no good-bye."  The little voice sounded hurt by her sudden departure.  "You don't have to go."

Sandy turned around to gaze at the little lizard perched on his stone home beside the dying tree, her large ears twitched back with a little annoyance and regret.  "I have to if I want to get home before dark," she replied.  "Good-bye, Mr. Lizard.  Thank you for your hospitality."  She turned to leave, trying to get away before the lizard convinced her into staying.

"Do not go that way," piped the lizard.  "They are jackals' tracks, you know."  Sandy looked down at the tracks that she stood on.  They were larger than her feet.  Her heart began to sink.  What's happened to her caution?  She was always aware of her surroundings.  Or, was she?  "Doggy should not follow that way."  He shook his head slowly.

"Why?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

"Follow that way will take you to them, pretty doggy.  They are mean beasts, yes."  The little lizard nodded his head.

The little fennec looked back again.  "Thank you again, Mr. Lizard."  She walked off the tracks and away from the little lizard's tree.

As she walked into the rocky, scrubby desert, she heard him shout out, "Call me Johnny!"

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

At least the coyotes were together in their long walk in the company of these terrible foreigners.  The walk had been long and hot.  And the desert had long since become the sandy wastelands of the northern desert.  They spoke in hushed tones.

"Where are they taking us, Sabby?"  The younger coyote whispered with a sidelong glance at one of the black guards.  Some moments passed.  "Brother?" He asked when the black and brown coyote had not answered his original question.

The other coyote seemed to snap out of some kind of dream.  He glanced at his younger brother, his eyes squinting in the bright, glaring sun that had begun to scorch the desert sands.  "We have to escape, soon."  He whispered, pitched low to prevent their guards from hearing.

"How?  They're too strong and too many."  Johan questioned, looking sidelong at the tall, hard muscled black jackal marching to his left.  The jackal carried a menacing, short spear that came only up to his shoulder.

Sabber was quiet for a moment watching the tall golden dunes spread out before them.  They were being led down a ridge of one dune towards a tall slope of another.  He leaned in towards his younger brother and whispered, "they're spread out in two files, with the exception of us.  If they lead us up that dune, then we'll make a break for it along the ridge.  They'll have to run up the slopes to catch us.  That should give us time to gain some distance."  He to0 glanced at his jackal companion to his right.

They marched down the slope, the grainy sands sliding under they're feet.  "What if they take us around the dune, instead?  What then?"  The younger whispered eyeing the dune they and the jackals were headed towards.

"Then, we improvise."

Chapter 4

The day was merciless as the sun kept rising.  Every living creature took cover from the scorching glare of the sun.  The rocky ground, laden with the dying brush, the prickly cacti, and the gleaming wildflowers were being overrun by the grainy sands of the northern desert.  The dunes rose high like mountains on the horizon.

The little desert fox gazed at the sandy dunes.  How had she drifted so far north?  She should have been almost home.  Sandy looked back to see the harsh, rocky desert that she no longer recognized.

Tears began to well up in her brown eyes.  Her large ears folded back against her head, Sandy tried to hold back her tears, trying not to let them fall.  She had never been so lost in her life.

In desperation, she glanced this way and that hoping for something familiar, like a rock or a tree, to tell her that she'd been here before.  She snapped to attention and froze.  Was it her imagination?  No!  She did hear something, like something large scurrying low on the ground seeking cover from a predator.

The sounds of shouting drew her attention towards the dunes.  The shouting grew louder.  Alarmed, her instincts kicking in, she dashed for the thickest brush.  The shouting, like hounds on a trail, was more intense, now.  She didn't dare glance back.  But she couldn't resist.  On the glimmering dunes, black shapes began to emerge.

Sandy stumbled, tripping over something large and soft she hadn't seen.  She hit the rocky ground hard, below the brush.  She froze, never even looked back at what she had tripped over.  Instinct or not, sometimes it was better not to know.  She laid motionless for what seemed like an eternity.

Their shouting had died out to silence, but she could still hear them through the ground.  How many of them were there?  Sandy wasn't going to find out.

These beasts must be, what the little lizard called, jackals.  She couldn't resist the fact that she wanted to see what a jackal looked like.  Her instincts held her in check and she remained hidden.

It seemed fate would give her the opportunity to see one and satisfy her curiosity.  She felt the footsteps more than she heard them, and the crashing and crackling of brush was closing towards her.  She held her breath, wide-eyed, muscles tensed ready to spring at a moment's notice.  And there, in her hesitation, she saw the tall, slender, black jackal through the brush she hid behind.  He looked like those bothersome coyotes, except more slender, with a pointier face than that of a coyote.  And he was as black as soot from head to toe.  The jackal carried a spear which he used to swipe and jab at the brushes.

Her heart leaped and caught in her throat as she realized, he was coming right at her.  Panic rose up in her starting from her toes.  Sandy wasn't certain what to do; her instinct had fled her.

The jackal came closer.  Whack!  Whack!  Brush crumbled to the ground.

If she fled with her instincts, the other jackals were sure to catch her.  He came closer.  A rustle whimpered nearby.  Sandy's heart pounded heavier.  She measured her chances on escape.  It didn't look hopeful.  The jackal was almost on top of her.  He still hadn't seen her.

Then a shout screamed across from one of the jackal's companions.  The black jackal turned his head, looked.  Then, he took off at a jog, leaving Sandy behind the very brush he was poised to jab the spear into.  It was only moments before the jackals were all gone, sight and sound.

Sandy remained hidden, expelling her breath long and slow trying to settle her pounding heart.  She hadn't realized she had held her breath at all.

As she relaxed, relieved that the jackals had left, a hand gripped her foot like a manacle.  She yipped and kicked out at the hand.  Its grip kept its hold around her ankle.  Sandy thrashed with her free foot, trying to break the vice-like grip.

"Stop!" gasped a voice too weak to yell.  "Help me, you long-eared dog!"

Sandy looked down at the beast that held her ankle.  She gasped.  It was a coyote!  She had managed to avoid capture by the jackals only to be caught by a coyote.  She couldn't believe her eyes.  A coyote caught her.

After a moments panic, Sandy tried to calm her pounding heart again.  What was she going to do?  This coyote hadn't done anything since he grabbed her ankle, except lie there on the ground.  A coppery twinge wafted to her nose, the smell of blood.  She knew she wasn't injured.  Backing her ears, Sandy finally took notice of the coyote.  He was resting there at her foot like a furry lump just trying to breathe.  The ragged breaths he took suggested that he'd been through more than just running.  Then, she saw the striations of cuts in his side and back.  Blood pored freely through the wounds.  The coyote was dying.

The jackals must have been searching for him.  They were so close, and yet for whatever reason, they quit their search.  They didn't even smell the blood, which was unmistakably present.  But, what could this coyote have done to earn their enmity?  She would have thought the two would have teamed together, as mean-spirited as the coyotes were or at least those she had met and the terrible things that lizard had spoken of the jackals.

What was there left for a dying coyote to ask for help?  There was nothing she could do for him now.  She felt sorrow for this beast in his current predicament.  At the least, she could humor him in his last moments here and listen to what he needed help for.  She moved closer to the coyote as best she could with him still clutching her ankle, tightly.

"Coyote, what help could I give you?  I have no bandages and I don't think bandages are going to help you."  Sandy whispered.  The coyote did not move for a moment, but rested there drawing in breath after ragged breath.  Why was she staying to help this coyote?  She wondered.  These beasts always chased her, trying to catch and serve her for dinner as they always growled at her.  Yet, here she was helping this dying coyote.  Something about him kept tugging at the back of her mind, as though she should know him from somewhere.  She pushed the thought aside.

The coyote slowly turned his muzzle up towards the fennec.  "Too late for me, you stupid, long-eared dog!" he rasped harshly.  "My brother. . ."

"Stop calling me that.  I'm a fennec!"  Sandy strangled her shout to a harsh whisper.

"Shut up and listen."  The coyote's words were cut off by a fit of coughing that racked his body.  Blood flecked his lips.  After the coughing seized, he drew in a deep breath and continued.  "Help my brother.  We tried to escape.  He didn't get away.  The jackals are going to kill him."  Tears began to roll down his cheeks.  Another coughing fit racked his body.  "It's all my fault."

"What can I do?  I don't even know where to start, much less what to do when I get there."  Sandy watched as the life in the coyote's eyes began to fade.  He extended a finger with all that was left of his energy and pointed to the mountainous sand dunes towering over them.  Then, he collapsed completely like a quiet sigh.

Freeing her ankle of the dead beast's grasp, she looked towards the glittering, sandy dunes.  The sun was slowly descending the yellow sky bathing everything in a rich golden hue.  She wondered, could a coyote actually care for someone?  It seemed so.  And was she wrong to think all coyotes as the same as those beasts that had terrorized her in the past?

Sandy wanted to continue her path home, or at least one she hoped led home.  But, those jackals had gone that way.  Were they still there?  Would she run into trouble with the jackals if she continued?  Are they coming back?  The fennec lowered her ears at the thought.

Glancing back at the dead coyote, Sandy wondered why she was still here.  She wanted to leave the coyote behind, but found herself standing there looking out at the mountainous dunes.

Sandy was lost.  Her home could be over the next rise, just past a dying tree.  The cool, dark hollow beckoned to her in her mind, a place to feel safe.  She blinked.  That other coyote was lost, just like her.  Lost took on a darker tone when she thought of the coyote in the clutches of those soot-black jackals.

The desert fox glanced back at the scrubby desert that was her home, yet so alien to her now.  Closing her eyes, she could see the hollow.  Her home could just be over that rise with the tall, lonely cactus reaching for the sky.  All she had to do was walk that way, and avoid the jackals.  She could be home before the sun set.

She glanced at the towering dunes of the northern desert.  Sandy looked back again at that lonely cactus.  The sun drifted closer to the horizon.

Chapter 5

Gray smoke rose above the mountainous sand dunes of the Northern Desert.  The smoke hung just above the gleaming dunes, bathing in the fiery orange glow of the setting sun.  Then, as if the setting sun's rays had a grip on it, the smoke drifted slowly higher, dissolving into the darkening sky.

Down below in a valley between two towering dunes, an enormous bonfire burned brightly, flames dancing gracefully across the fuel wood brought from a distant land and tossed in by the dancing shadows.  The shadows were busy everywhere in this valley.  Work had to be completed before the light of the setting sun vanished entirely from the darkening sky and the Great One performed the Ritual.  Thus, these jackals, the color of shadows, were frantic to complete their tasks before the sun set.

In a corner of this valley, a thick post was set deep into the desert floor.  A canine, unlike the jackals here, hung limply against the post; his hands tied to it.  The coyote hadn't moved since his attempted escape from those retched black fiends.  Their blackness seemed to taint everything, even his gray fur.

Johan peeked out through slitted lids.  There in front of him, two jackals, just shadowy silhouettes against the blaze of the fire, stood guard holding a spear that were no taller than their shoulders.  They conversed with each other in a peculiar language that he could not understand.  Not paying any attention to the bound coyote or the activity around the fire, the jackals walked around to his right, still conversing.

Despair seeped into his body as he stared at the jackals dancing around the fire.  He could not escape his bonds.  He already tried.  Defeat stared at him in all its gleaming magnificence.

Johan knew.  He was certain of it; that he would die at the hands of the soot-black jackals.

Chapter 6

Sandy Scragtail peered over a high ridge of a sand dune.  It was a mountainous dune and the valley it hid beyond was enormous.  The sun had set a while ago and all that she could see were shadows moving here and there in the bright glow of the bonfire.  Jackals.

She had seen the smoke of the fire and followed it through the evening until the sun had set.  Then, the fennec followed the orange glow cast by a source she could not see until now.  And all the while, she tried to sort out what was going on and why had she gone into the desert.  It could have been that thought that tugged at the back of her mind.  It could have been curiosity in knowing.  Or, it could have been pity that led her here.

Looking down into the valley, she sought for a coyote.  How am I to find a creature like that when I've tried to escape them all my life?  Sandy rubbed her right ear.  All that she could see were black shadows created by the fire.

There in the corner of the valley off to her left, the fennec spied a beast leaning against a pole.  Two of the shadows stood between the beast and the fire holding spears. &nbps;The beast was different, lighter than the shadows that guarded him if that was what they were doing.  The beast seemed like a beacon of hope to her.

Sandy half crawled, half slid down the dune on her belly.  She had come this far without turning back.  Why she had come, she could not answer.  Moving slowly down the slope, she eyed the soot-black jackals guarding the beast leaning on the pole.  The closer she got the more confident she was that the beast was a coyote.  The coyote was bound to the pole and hung limply.

The jackals spoke in a strange language she couldn't understand.  Their attention was so fixed on the fire; they never heard her or smelled her approach.  She was quiet and she knew that.  The fennec had gotten to within reach of the piled brush around the coyote when the jackals walked around the coyote, towards her.  Sandy froze, hoping they would not see her.  How could she be so stupid?  She wasn't a hero.  I'm doomed.  She closed her eyes and waited for the worst.

The vixen heard one of the jackals step over her, just brushing her left shoulder.  Sandy could smell the smoke of fire close to her.  The bonfire must have been blowing this way, masking her scent entirely.  The jackals didn't even notice her.  They continued to talk in that peculiar language, their voices becoming more distant.  The jackals were moving on.

She opened her eyes slowly, instinctively trying to avoid the reflection of fire on her eyes.  Glancing around, she noticed that the jackals had moved to the other side of the coyote and appeared to be looking out into the dark desert made darker by the glow of the bonfire.  Not wasting time, the fox crept forward to the limp form of the coyote.  She crawled up to the coyote determined to cut the bonds that held the coyote's arms to the post.  Recognition dawned on her.  She knew the coyote.  His gray fur dusted brown from the desert sands.  But his arms were streaked with black from something.

She stopped in her actions and stared at the coyote's face.  "Johan?"

The coyote opened his eyes slowly and looked down at the fennec, "Sandy?"

"It's you!" she whispered venomously as she sat back.  Sandy thrust her hands onto her hips and glared at the coyote.

"Sandy, you gotta help me."  The coyote begged glancing around.

"Why should I?  You coyotes always chased me and threatened to eat me.  I should just leave you now."  She knew she wouldn't.  He and his brother had chased her every chance they had.

Johan hadn't noticed her expression as he begged her, "Please, you gotta get me out of here.  They're gonna kill me.  We never meant anything by our threats."  She lowered her ears at the thought of the other coyote.  It had just occurred to her, the dead coyote could have been his brother.  "We was just having fun.  Please . . ." The coyote fell silent immediately and then whispered, "They're comin' around."

Sandy saw the jackals moving slowly around to the front of the coyote where they had once stood before.  She moved around behind the coyote, amazed that they had not heard her and the coyote whispering.  She bit at the rope, tearing it away.  She heard the sigh of relief from the coyote.  "Oh thank you, miss."  Johan mouthed to her.  The little desert fox hoped she wasn't making a mistake.

She had just bitten through the rope when a clatter of sounds rose up from the other side of the bonfire like an urgent wave across all the jackals in the little valley.  Both Sandy and Johan looked up to see what the commotion was, fearing the worst.  Jackals dropped the items in their hands and fell to their knees and bowing to the ground with their chins on the sand.  A figure walked out towards the fire, accompanied by a small contingent of jackal guards wearing skulls for masks.  The figure was not a jackal.  Sandy had never seen a creature like it.  Larger than the jackal guards that surrounded it, its fur was as black as the night sky.  The clothing that adorned it was as black as the creature that wore them and speckled with little shimmering silver beads to have the effect of appearing like the night sky itself full of stars.  And its eyes shone green in the blazing firelight.  This figure strode gracefully to the fire and gestured with one hand towards the coyote.

The coyote and the vixen looked at each other for a moment as the two jackal guards got to their feet.  "Run!"  Urged the coyote as he shoved the vixen away from the guards and out into the desert.  Sandy barely kept her feet.  She took off faster than the coyote and soon had passed him, the two jackal guards right behind them.

The shadow lord roared a command and all the jackals scrambled to their feet.  They grabbed up their weapons and sped off into the darkness after the coyote and the vixen they never saw.

Chapter 7

Sandy and Johan ran through the sandy wastelands of the Northern Desert trying to escape the pursuing jackals.  Her heart was pounding from the effort.  Her legs burned from the exertion of running.  And all the while, the coyote directed her left or right.  How he knew which way to go was beyond her.  But she had no other choice.  She was lost and didn't know where her home was.

She glanced over her shoulder at the two soot black jackals that chased them.  They seemed never to tire.  Sandy stumbled over a small bush in the sands just as one of the jackals threw his spear.  It sailed wide over her and landed well beyond her.  She panicked, scrambling to her feet, fighting to get moving before the jackals caught her.

"Get moving!"  The coyote shout, tugging on her arm.  He nearly threw the vixen onto her feet.  He stopped in between the jackals approaching and Sandy.  "I'll slow them down."

Sandy slid to a stop and looked back at the coyote.  "I don't know where I'm at."

Looking over his shoulder, he growled out to her, "Follow the moon until you come to a dry creek bed.  Then, follow it away."  Johan turned his attention to the two jackals.  They had slowed down, confused but ready for action.

Sandy could hear the other jackals shouting in the distance.  It would not be long before they arrived.  "Come on, Johan.  You can't take them all on.  Let's go."

"Go!  I'll slow them."  He barked as he dodged the point of the spear jabbed at him.

Sandy took off running.  She could just hear the coyote shouting out, "I'll catch ya later, long-eared dog," just before an agonized yip raked into the night.  The fighting continued on.  The sounds of the fighting disappearing the further she ran.

And she ran on out of the sandy wastelands and into the rocky scrublands.  It did not take long for her to find the creek bed, dried from the hot days.  She was glad for the hard surfaces of this land, which made it easier to hide her tracks.  Through her flight from the jackals, she could not remember much of where she was.  For the little fox, the escape from the Northern Desert was nothing more than a blur in her mind.

She knew the creek bed well.  It led past her home, a safe place.  She collapsed on the ground, panting hard from the run.  Sandy was glad to be home.  Thoughts began to run wildly through her mind.  What about the coyote?  Did he make it?  Or did those black jackals capture again?

As much as the coyotes have scared her and chased her, the desert fox couldn't help but think of what it would be like without them there.  Would she miss them?  She wiped a tear from her eyes.  Strange, I'm actually crying for them.  She crawled into her hollow and cried herself to sleep.

The End of Book 1

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