The crashing river beat at great stones and my hopes. The stars, once my friends, snickered at me as they speckled the sky, reminding me of the passing time. Cold winds screamed as they raced through the dry trees, reminding me of my failures.

You're letting Saguaro die for you.

She'll be torn apart.

You left Hare and Sego to the Fuegos.

You smell like fish.

I scowled, not accepting the thoughts, but not exactly pushing them out either.

I had scouted ahead of Saguaro to see how far away the waterfall was. It wasn't too far, close enough for a quick jog, but the contents of the river, especially near the base of the waterfall, made me worried. The relatively smooth river turned into a rocky, muddy nightmare as it got closer to the waterfall. The water was no longer a cooling shade of gray, but a deep, mucky red. I tried to force the image of blood rolling down the stones from my head. Smooth stones turned into sharp, jagged edges, catching onto every piece of debris that floated down the river, including scraggily sage brush, tree branches, logs and even a falcon carcass. I didn't want to know how such a big bird was stolen by the river.

Just as the river began to relax again, I spotted Saguaro, struggling to doggy paddle upstream. I was surprised by her strength; her stroke wasn't pretty or fast, but efficient enough to keep her moving forward.

I was tired from walking, the heat, and lack of sleep, but Saguaro must have been exhausted. Her breaths were tight and shallow, but her eyes were fixed towards the horizon, determined to win a battle that was not her own.

"Sarah!" I called out, climbing onto a rock protruding over the river.

Her gaze became distracted at the sound of my voice, but only for a moment. "How-far-is-it?"

"Not far," I yelled over the river. "But there are lots of rocks ahead. The only way to get around them is to climb out of the water and hike."

"Not-going-to-happen!" Saguaro called, gasping for air between each word. "Can't-leave-the-water!"

I frowned. "It's the only way! They won't notice you sneak out!"

"Yes-they-will. It's-their-river." She breathed.

She was right, but I wasn't happy about it. I had no idea how she would swim up a stream of gushing, vertical water.

I followed her closely, making sure she made progress. Her efforts became strained, but she never gave up. Occasionally I would call out encouraging words, such as you're doing great and you aren't going to drown (I was doing my best to be positive). I don't think she appreciated my cheering, but she didn't show it.

Great trees blocked the riverbank, so my view of Saguaro was obstructed. I was worried about her. She seemed strong enough to swim, but she was getting tired and the worse was still ahead. Not to mention the passing time, darkening the night with each moment.

I wasn't too worried about being out at night; I went on nightly runs frequently. But I never left my territory. I knew the Piedra tribe lived on a relatively safe part of the Sonoran desert, but this was far away from my old tribe. The desert wasn't safe at night. Hare used to tell me, Delta and Horizon about the monsters that dwelled amongst the dry cliffs. I never believed those old Navajo tales of spirits and demons; I though they were just stories to humor our imaginative minds, but the last few days had changed my mind about the old folktales.

I heard movement amongst the dry tree branches and whipped my head around instinctively. Nothing was there, but that didn't smooth my hackles.

I met up with Sarah again, still struggling against the current. She had seen the treacherous rocks, but continued to push onwards.

I heard movement again, quieter but no less startling. Turning around, all that could be seen against the dark sky were dry cotton trees and a pair of ugly, glittering black eyes above a set of yellow, salivating fangs.

I froze, barring my teeth and folding my ears close to my skull. It moved slowly with eerie precision, towering over me despite its hunched back. Long, sharp antlers perched next to wolf-like ears, balancing out a pointed muzzle filled with  teeth and slobbery foam. Along with my own panicked breath, I could hear raspy gasps fill its thin, bony chest.

Snake hadn't lied; wendigos were real.

It reached out with its long, bony arm to touch me, but I bolted in the other direction before it could grab me with its blood-stained claws.

"Wendigo! Wendigo!" I yelped, running upriver, leaping between tree trunks and bushes.

Sarah glanced up from the river, her eyes growing wide with horror. "Run!" She barked out.

I was gone before she could say anything else.

Clambering over some dusty rocks, breathing rapidly, I looked back to see if it was following. I thought it was right behind me, but it had lingered back, it's antlers poking over a ridge where Sarah was swimming.

"Great spirits," I cursed, jumping back down.

I sneaked to the edge of a sharp rock, looking down at the wendigo and Sarah. I didn't realize how fast my heart was pounding; I was afraid the wendigo would hear it. The ugly, lanky creature limbered down the riverbank, its eyes fused to Sarah. It made a horrible sound; something like a wolf's growl and a human's moaning.

Sarah panted rapidly above the choppy water, swimming as fast as she could. If she didn't leave the river, the wendigo would get in and . . . I didn't want to think about it.

I can jump on its neck and distract it, then Sarah can run away. I thought. But will she leave the river?

Probably not. But if the tales I had heard about wendigos were true, we would all be dead, or worse: bitten.

I took a deep breath , hoping it wouldn't be last. I got a running start and leaped off the rock, regretting my action as the sharp antlers and rotting meat smell hit me.

The wendigo made a human-like scream and grabbed for me with its scabby fingers. I bit its matted neck fur before I could gag at the bitter, greasy taste in my mouth.

It twisted around with shocking speed, throwing pink foam through the air. I did not want to get bitten, so I did my best to hold a tight grip and avoid its muzzle.

With a great lurch, it flipped me off its back. My shoulders scraped the ground before I did a summer sault and jumped back on my feet, ready to attack again.

I attacked the closest thing possible, it's right leg, clamping my teeth on decaying fur and bones. Because it had lost its balance throwing me off its back, I was able to topple the skeletal creature with a quick jerk of my head.

"Sarah, get out! Run!" I called to her.

"I-can't-do-that!" She yelled back.

While it was down I slipped away, hiding under a bush. I could hear it breathing, frustration with each rasp as it got back up. It crawled in the direction I had ran, sniffing the air for my scent.

Despite my painfully-quick heartbeat and fear of the wendigo, I burst out from behind the bush, teeth bared and howling with rage. I wasn't going to let it hurt me or Sarah!

In a frenzy of teeth, fur and limbs I reached for its throat, narrowly avoiding snapping fangs. Once I grabbed hold, the wendigo  clawed at my pelt, trying to pull me away. It's movements were slow and powerful, not panicky or desperate. It wasn't worried at all; it didn't care about its own life. All the wendigo wanted was to sink its teeth into my flesh.

Unlike the wendigo, I was reacting out of instinct: the force that kept me alive in situations that I should not have survived in. I bit harder, but the wendigo's tough skin wouldn't break.

"Astor! It's-going-to-bite-you!"

I felt a snap too close too my ear and bounded away quickly, grabbing large chunks of steely fur in my mouth. The wendigo wasn't fazed at all by my attack on his windpipe. It lumbered towards me again, moving slowly but deliberately on two legs. I was exhausted. I couldn't defeat this creature, and Sarah wouldn't leave the river.

So I turned around and jumped in the water, plunging several feet under. When I resurfaced, I quickly paddled to Sarah and grabbed her scruff, not waiting for the water to drain from my eyes.

"Wait! No! Astor! You can't help me and I can't leave! The dryads will eat us!"

We'll see. I responded inaudibly.

It was difficult to wrestle Sarah from the water, but luckily, I had enough energy to drag her out. But on the last stretch of water, a slimy hand grabbed my back leg. Those dryads were fast!

I kicked the hand away, cutting scales. More dryads grabbed my ankles as I threw Sarah out of the water. They pulled me under swiftly, laughing with glee at their newest catch.

Guess what Sarah did?

She jumped on their heads. And clawed their eyes out.

They screamed angrily, letting up enough to allow Sarah to grab my scruff and tear me away. She didn't let me go until we were far enough away from the river.

I panted heavily, my heart beating like heavy rain droplets on the dry earth. The dryads were cursing in frustration, holding their wounded eyes in their hands.

The wendigo didn't seem worried about loosing his catch; he just turned around and disappeared into the darkness, his antlers camouflaging with the branches.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!" Saguaro screamed. Her cheek had been scratched.

"You were awesome," I breathed.

"THANK YOU! BUT WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? I'M TIRED OF SAVING YOUR FLUFFY BUTT!"

<---- ••• ---->

We made camp for the night in a cave under a shallow hill of stone. I think it had once been an air pocket in a patch of mud. At least that's what Hare told me. She knew a lot about the stony landscape and the way it had been formed.

"That was really dumb if you, Astor. You could have been eaten. I could have been eaten!" Sarah scolded, licking water from her carmel fur.

"Glad to see you worrying about yourself." I said, drying my fur by the fire Sarah had assembled from sagebrush limbs and sparks, cast by two stones.

"Are you callimg be shelifish?" She growled, pausing as her tongue licked her fur.

"No! No, I just mean that . . . you've been doing so much for me these last few days, not even worrying about yourself."

She scoffed, lifting her head. "It's only been a day."

"It feels like longer." I muttered.

She didn't reply for a while.

"It's odd to think that two sunrises ago I was eating a lizard in my flock's hollow, waiting for them to come down from the spirit realm and visit me." She said quietly, the fire dancing cooly in her eyes as she looked up at me. "Now I'm with a crazy boy who takes on dryads and wendigos without hesitation."

I chuckled. Two sunrises ago I was being bossed around by The Shifter, preparing myself for a long day of fixing dens and gathering the courage to stand up to him.

That had been a lifetime ago.

"Sarah, I don't know very much about you. If you don't mind me asking, why do you live with the spirits? Why not in a tribe?" I asked.

Her wince made me realize I had stepped on a touchy spot, but she didn't withdraw from my question.

She sighed, her eyes glimmering with the first bit of sadness I had seen. "I used to live with a tribe, but I lost them. I was really little, so I don't remember much; this was my first memory, at least one I know I haven't made up. One day my older sibling, a friend of his and I went down into the gorge to play hide and seek. I didn't know they were trying to trick me, but I was so little. I didn't understand why they wouldn't want to play with me. While I was hiding behind a bush, they walked back to camp, laughing. I thought we were just having fun . . ."

Her voice trailed off, then she quickly blinked her wet eyes and brought her ears back up. "Anyways, the spirits heard me whining while I was waiting for my brother and his friend to find me. Good thing too, I would have died out there, taken off by a bird or something. They treated me like their own: teaching me about the desert, the spirit realm, the whole universe! I'm glad I met them; they've been a better family than my tribe would've ever been."

Her voice was cheerful, but I could tell that she had not quite forgiven her brother for what he had done.

"That's enough about me. What's your story, Astor?"

"I don't have one, really." I grunted. "Hare, my adoptive mother, found me as a tiny pup near the southern border of the Piedra tribe territory. I had been very dehydrated and sick, it's a good thing she found me. Creek, Sego's mother, finished nursing me and Hare has been taking care of me since."

Saguaro nodded. "So . . . Is Sego like a sister then?"

"What? No! No! Yuck!" I yelped. 

Sarah laughed as I made dry heaving noises. "Just kidding! Seriously, I'm just teasing. But that's kind of weird, though: having a crush on someone you drank milk with."

I shrugged. I never though of Sego as a sister, mainly because I never thought of Creek as my mother. When we were young, I saw Sego as an annoying little girl who cried about everything and giggled too loud. It was only a few months ago that I had realized she was actually kind of funny and smart and pretty . . .

"Do you still like her? After her getting mad at you?" Saguaro asked hesitantly, pushing a dark stone around in a circle.

"I don't know if I like her as much," I whispered honestly, the memory of her angry, tearful face snarling at me, resurfacing as it commonly did . "But I do know that I still . . . love her." I said the last two words quietly, as if they had been a secret only Sego and I should have known.

"But she gave up on you so easily when the shifter lied about you! She trusted that monster over you!"

"Can you blame her?" I barked, looking up at her and curling my lips back. She breathed quickly, surprised at my sudden burst. "The Piedra tribe has never trusted me. Why would they? I'm an outsider who came from who knows where! I don't even look like them. I thought all that didn't matter to Sego, but I guess I was wrong."

Saguaro opened her mouth to retort, but I cut her off. "Why does it matter to you, anyways?"

Her ears folded close to her head. "I just . . . wanted to know. Sorry."

Before I could bark at her anymore, she sulked to a cold, dark corner of the cave, her tail behind her legs as she curled up into a tiny ball, pushing the world away from her.