Coyotes in Wonderland
All I heard that night was scratches, barking, and growling. I couldn’t see what was going on, for I had not yet gained my sight. The ripping of flesh and the violent ruffle of trees and bushes was an indicator that I wasn’t exactly witnessing my siblings play-fighting each other. It was a dark night, and I could feel a cold breeze brushing on my face. My den was being attacked by a pack of wolves. I heard something pounce on my guardian, and then come for me. I tried to hide deeper in the bush I was in, as I saw a huge animal glowering over me, with its dark fur and eyes, and its teeth clenched ready to have me for dinner.
I saw it wince when a group of thorns cut through its fur. But it never attacked me; instead it retreated, tackled by two coyotes on its back. Before there was a lot of growling, now there was a lot of squealing. I could see that the wolf had red cuts and red ooze coming out, as it limped away into the dark along with its pack. Then everything went silent.
***
From the moment I was born I knew I was different. I mean, I was what anybody would call a normal coyote. I was small, and had brown fur on my face, while gray and brown fur on my body – the colors blending together; I had pointy fox-like ears, cute dark eyes, and loved to play. I was only a pup, 5 weeks old. Our pack was small, just a few coyotes from the attack five weeks ago. But the main reason I was different was because I thought differently other members of the pack. I was still learning how to hunt, clean myself, and protect myself, but I always loved the woods. I usually live on the edge of the woods, but I loved to explore. Nothing would stand in my way from sneaking off into the woods. I liked to sniff out new green things everywhere, and I usually went deeper in the forest than anyone else. I lived in a mostly warm, but sometimes cold rainy climate, in a place you may know as Yellowstone: to me it is Wonderland. My den was a shallower stone cave-like structure, with huge rocks right outside of it. I lived on the edge of a big hill, next to a clear, pure river to drink from, and a green grassy area on the other side. Then beyond that was a large field with lots of yellow strands of waving grasses.
One time, curious about what I could hear in the breeze, I went off alone. I saw a huge dark square thing, standing on a thick branch, with as curved shiny glass pointed at my face. It seemed interesting so I walked slowly toward it sniffing it. From about 4 feet away, the black square smelled like black clay, and the thing holding what I discovered later to be a camera smelled faintly of oily claws. I could sense some excitement in a 5-6 foot-tall organism, and also some shaky nervous breathing.Then the figure holding the camera that was about 5-6 feet tall, much taller than I, walked slowly away for some reason like I was the predator.
We were very playful animals, but I will never forget the time I got lost.
There was one day when I my exploration really got a hold of me. I was just out in the trees, when my curiosity grew more and more, and I went deeper and deeper into the forest. I reached a clearing, and when I didn’t recognize anything I saw, I knew I had screwed up. During the day, I searched for anything edible. Since I couldn’t hunt, the only thing I could get were various berries. The hard part was at night, when I went to sleep hungry, and I had to walk to get somewhere safe, and somewhere that I wouldn’t freeze to death. (I found a hollow opening in a tree.) Another hard part was around noon when the sun was blazing on my face. My limbs became weaker as I tried to find someplace cool under a tree, but after a day or so, a member of the pack found me lying on the grass, confused, and not knowing what to do. When I got back, relief washed over me.
I had so many adventures, from playing pranks on my siblings, by hiding and then jumping out to scare them out of their fur, to accidentally getting thorns on my coat from playing in a sharp bush, from accidentally getting lost by exploring too much, to scaring off a deer that my parents were trying to hunt for dinner.
Where I lived, there was nature all around me, practically untouched by many animals, perfect for exploring. The water was so pure that every night we could see the reflection of stars in it. It was peaceful for the most part, for that was the beauty of being a pup, because the crazy things I did would soon be the least of my problems.
Nine months later…
I will never forget this miserable night. I was with my pack just back from hunting, when a group of wolves emerged from the dark. They suddenly attacked us and left us instantly squealing for our lives. I tried to protect the younger pups, while fending off the wolves. We had a small pack so I knew this would be impossible. Small coyotes hid while we well fought them back. But when the wolves spotted us, there was no turning back. Blood was shed either way, as the wolf chased down the doomed coyote, and pierced its skin with one sharp bite; it dropped lifeless, with blood oozing out of its neck. The wolves got what they wanted- a couple coyotes to kill for dinner.
The rest of us had no choice but to hide. After the wolves left, I yelped to my pack: “We need to leave now!”
It was a rough trip south. I was a young adult, but I had to lead my pack to safety. Searching for a different place to sleep every day as we were on the move at night, we occasionally stopped to find water, and food. Then, at last we found our place to stay. An enclosed space, at the bottom of a hill, on the edge of a little forest. The rest was covered with bushes, and trees that led deeper into the forest.
As I approached, I was exhausted. I felt like passing out after weeks of seeking a new home. Then something caught my eye. A prickly green bush I was faintly familiar with! I walked farther up the hill. The way the trees were arranged seemed familiar too. My heart began to thump. I had found my old den that grew up in, the dark smooth stone cave that I used to lay in, with rocks that I liked to run around. I walked down the hill, I emerged only to see the extraordinary view I grew up with. I saw my play area in front of the den where I would scare my siblings. I now remembered the many things I had seen as a pup, from giant lodgepole trees, to dark spruce trees, from huge rocks, to geysers that could reach 100 feet, and from the hill that I lived on, to the huge mountains in the distance. We were back on the edge of a hill, next to a clear, pure river to drink from, and a grand green grassy area on the other side. Then beyond that was a large field with lots of yellow strands.
It was a huge landscape, buried by trees like a forest, dirt, and branches on the ground, until you reached a clearing, and BAM! you saw a sight that you couldn’t forget. There was a pocket of trees to my left, great access to water from the river. Sunrise was coming, so the distant mountains were glazed with orange. Overcome with gratitude, I slunk down to a bed of evergreen fronds and passed out.
In the middle of the night, I woke up to a loud howling. I looked up alarmed, and walked cautiously to see dark shapes of wolves on the other side of the river, about 100 feet from us, spread across the grass, to the right of the mountains. I recognized their size and could just make out the leader’s face. There were at least 7. They woke all of us up with a loud howl that boomed in the distance. All of us coyotes were confused about what woke us up, but I was confused and angry as to why the same pack of wolves kept hunting us. The leader of the pack howled again, this time louder. All attention was on them. At last I howled, “Why are you here? Why hunt the same pack over and over? You already got what you wanted: my uncle and my best friend!?”
The wolf casually took a sip of water.
“It’s not the pack I want, it’s you.” I stared in confusion, trying to process this strange claim. “When I killed your parents, I came for you. But as I did, I got staggered by sharp bristles. Then that made time for two coyotes to pounce on me, leaving me injured, and our pack squealing. All because of one little pup. I am here for revenge.”
There were 6 of us: three pups, three adults, and seven of them, all ferocious bloodthirsty coyote eaters. I had to lead my pack to safety, but I knew there was no way we could outrun them now. They had gotten a few coyotes from us, they had made us retreat, but they weren’t satisfied with that; they wanted to decimate us. The wolf sensed my fear as easily as catching a rabbit for dinner. I couldn’t surrender, and it was impossible to fight them. We would lose either way. So I did the only logical thing that came to my head: hide.
I scrammed to protect the pups, while going to a secret hiding spot in the ground on the other side of the hill. The others ran too, trying to escape. The wolves hesitated, and then started running in our direction. But we coyotes were quick; by the time they came in our direction, we were already hidden. The wolves could pick up our scent, so it was only a matter of time before they found us. We were hiding in my old den, hidden by branches, under where the wolves were walking. There was a huge opening in the entrance, kind of like a cave structure, so the wolves could just simply look in and find me. But I hid deeper inside, covered by branches, hiding the young, holding my breath, for the wolves were right on top. A few minutes later, a wolf picked up my scent and stared in my direction.
The wolf eyed me, clearly knew I was in here, but couldn’t see me. The wolf was not the leader, a little smaller, but was definitely ferocious enough. It walked slowly toward me as I was careful not to move a muscle, or even breathe. It was quiet outside, with only the crunch of the wolves’ paws on the ground, and the rustling of the wind. I stayed completely silent, which made my heartbeat the loudest thing I could hear. The wolf kept walking ever so slightly, its nose twitching, my scent as obvious as ever. Then, one of the pups moved, making me flinch, rustling the branches, giving away our position; if matters could get worse, a coyote was spotted a few yards away in a different hiding spot, so a group of wolves rushed to ambush them. The wolf in our cave looked where the other wolves were heading, and I prayed it would not eat us, and follow the others. Instead, it turned around, looked me directly in the eye, and charged. That’s when all chaos broke loose.
Loud shots filled the air. The wolf in our cave dropped. My ears rang from the loud sound. From the wolf I saw a gash, with a metal chip on its side. More shots came, hitting wolves. I peeked out to see what happened, and through a bush I saw those 5-6 foot organisms holding weapons, aiming at the wolves, third partying us.
The wolf leader looked at me. He scowled, for he knew we were at the end of the barrel. ‘Stupid poachers,’ I thought to myself. We coyotes were scared of those organisms, humans mostly, and my whole life I didn’t know why, but now I knew. The wolf leader and I knew we had to work together, if we didn’t want to get killed. We saw the wolf’s pack get decimated until there were only a few left. So when the wolf leader and I locked eyes, I saw that piercing stare, full of vengeance, but with also terror, and hope, with all that goes into leading a pack; but now we had a common enemy. Suddenly I saw that he was trying to squeeze that little bit of trust we had in each other. Then we both charged at the poachers.
The poachers were a good distance away, near the river. We did not try to kill them, but rather scare them off. I had sensed the fear the 5-6 foot tall organism had of me, when I was just a pup. A gunshot pierced the air. Right before we trampled them, we skirted to the side, as we left the poor poachers in a panic, running for their lives.
We tumbled into the river. The clear, cool water felt good on my face. As I got out of the water, I knew we had succeeded, but I turned around, and saw something that made my heart stop. The wolf lay on its side in the river lifeless, red streaks flowing out making the water not blue, but red. The poachers had shot him. I stood over the wolf’s body, a mix of emotions washing over me. Although this wolf had taken some of our lives in the past, he had saved the majority of us today, while in the process giving himself up.
Out of the trees emerged one of the female coyotes with the pups safely at her side. She had rescued them, while saving herself from the ambush, giving news that they had fled. Another one of us had been injured, and had to be tended to. Later that day (or night), I silently whimpered to myself over the wolf’s body, as we had to leave soon for a new source of water. I picked up the wolf, and rested him under a tree to honor him. Right before we left, I sat with my family, taking one last look at my home: I gazed at all the trees peacefully rustling in the wind, the grass I had grown up on, and the mountains blending with the orange glazed sunrise.