I could stand up comfortably; my ears didn't even touch the ceiling, but my flanks brushed the walls of the tunnel. I wondered how the large golden coyote would fit through.

The tunnel branched out in many directions, but we didn't take any of the alternate routes. I expected the bronze coyote to take many complicated twists and turns, but he stayed straight.

The square tunnel opened up to a large air pocket. A splash of rain and light trickled through a hole in the ceiling, illuminating a spot on the floor, like the full moon in a sky of darkness. The corners of the room were shaded, but I could tell there was a murmer of movement and noise. Coyotes were conversing softly, young pups were yawning, yearlings were wrestling anxiously and elders were mumbling. As my eyes adjusted to the gray light, I could see the scenes that my ears heard. All of them were larger and more athletic than the average coyote, but their deep rib cages poked out and their green eyes were glazed with worry.

"Welcome to our camp." The yellow female said somberly. "My name is Sky, and this is our chief, Verde of Noo Meksiko."

"Nice to meet you." I muttered. "You already know me, but I'm Astor of . . . I'm not sure where. But I'm from Kolorato."

Sarah giggled next to me. Sky and Verde sat down with us near the entrance while the other four Guerros went back to their work. I noticed the large golden coyote sit down by a pretty female, probably his mate, then gently nuzzled the three pups by her belly.

As I examined the room, still standing, I got a sense of melancholy and sorrow from the coyotes. Their darkened glances made me nervous. Weren't they the Guerro, the strong and courageous warriors of the Sonoran Desert? Wouldn't they save my tribe?

Verde answered my unspoken question. "We have been reduced to very little since we left our home. We do what we can here, but food is scarce around the Eyeseffendee."

"Eyeseffendee? isn't that the dark road built by humans?" I asked. Were we really that close to it? Had my vision been real?

"I think it's pronounced I-70," Sarah started, but Verde cut her off.

"Yes. The fumes from the great monsters poison the sky above them, leaving the earth around the road hot and barren. Most natural animals stay away from the road."

"Natural animals . . . ?" I mumbled.

"Animals that the earth and sky give life to. The unnatural animals are demons; evil spirits that come from dark places. They tend to . . . linger close to the road." Verde said.

"Why would any animal, natural or not, choose to be by that road?" Sarah asked.

"Because it brings unnatural deaths and sorrows. Sorrows from the humans." Sky answered.

"Oh." Sarah muttered, lowering her head.

I didn't understand anything about demons or dark places, but I could understand how those humans felt.

"You didn't come to hear of our struggles though, did you?" Verde looked down at me.

"Ugh-" I cleared my throat, "um, no, not really. I mean, it sucks that you don't have prey, and-"

"We don't need your pity, Astor." Sky said calmly.

"S-sorry."

"Saguaro has told us of your plight. The Shifter has murdered your leader, and now seeks to murder your tribe." Verde said evenly.

I didn't understand how he could be so calm about any of this. "Yes, sir." I said.

"And you think we can help you."

"Um, well, ugh, I . . ." I sputtered, feeling the hope drain from my chest slowly, ". . . I was really counting on that."

He noticed my cracking voice and smirked. "Don't loose courage yet, Astor. I never said we can't help you. But I can't promise that we will save your tribe."

"But-but you're the Guerro! The great warriors from the south! The old stories said you were invincible, you could do anything!" I said with a bit of frustration.

"Astor, please be respectful-" Sarah started, but Verde cut her off.

"It's all right, Saguaro. We were once great. But not anymore. Times have been hard, and I'm not sure if we will ever recover from them."

"Oh, don't be so pessimistic, my chief." Sky said. "We will recover. Perhaps not any time soon, and not to the greatness we once had, but we will recover."

We watched the coyotes in the cave for a moment. They looked physically strong, but they were hollow; walking bodies without spirit or purpose. My heart ached for them. I remembered times I had felt like that.

"Can we help your tribe?" I asked.

"What did you say?" The bronze coyote asked, stepping a little closer to hear me.

"I said," I enunciated, "can we help your tribe? So they can help us?"

The two Guerro smiled.

"I think so." Verde said.

"Really? What can we do?" Sarah asked, wagging her tail.

"What my coyotes really need is a boost of spirit; confidence. Many of them haven't left the cave in ages, and very few of them can remember the times of our greatness. We continue to train and battle monsters, but we have forgotten our purpose. Can you help us remember, Astor?"

I was confused. "Wait, what do you mean? Remember what?"

"Remind us of what it is to be a warrior. A true warrior. If you can do that, we will fight for you. If not . . . you and Saguaro are on your own." Verde said.

"Wait, what?" I repeated.

"May I speak to you Astor? Over here?" Sarah said, tugging me aside.

"Uh, sure."

I followed her to a secluded corner, away from earshot of the staring Sky and Verde.

"Astor, he wants you to rally the Guerro." She said, speaking quickly.

"I don't understand."

"Give them a pep talk! Encourage them! Give them some oomph!"

"Oomph?"

"Yes!"

My ears drooped a bit. "I don't think I can do that . . ."

Sarah's ears dropped. "W-what do you mean, you can't do it? This is so easy! Just talk to them, and you have yourself an army!"

"But I'm no good at talking. How can I encourage a depressed tribe?" I croaked.

"They're not depressed, they're just . . . sad." Sarah said.

"Sarah, they are depressed. That's more than just sad. They don't have any hope." I said.

"Well, how would you know?" Sarah huffed.

"I've been depressed. I am depressed!" I growled.

"Okay, I guess that does make sense. I won't argue with that. But that means you have something in common with them!"

I scowled at her.

"Let's tell the chief you're up to it!"

Sarah trotted back to Sky and Verde. I followed less enthusiastically.

"He'll do it." Sarah said for me.

"Good." Verde said, looking at me. "You seem a bit nervous. I'll give you some time to gather your thoughts, but I suggest that we leave sooner than later. Time is a valuable asset when it comes to war."

I nodded. "Yes, it is. Not just in war."

<----•••---->

"What am I supposed to say?" I asked Sarah. "Words don't help when you've lost all hope."

She was trying to help me get my speech ready, but our grumbling stomachs distracted us. We hadn't eaten anything for a long time. I didn't feel like eating, but Sarah had found some rabbit scraps to gnaw on. She wasn't much help while her mouth was full.

"I dunno, what woul' dyou want to 'ear?" She said while chewing.

I sighed. I didn't know, that everything would be alright? That my tribe would be fine?

I didn't know if that was true.

"I don't want to give them false hope. The world isn't all rainbows and butterflies. They know that."

"Then tell us the truth." A brown coyote behind us said.

We turned around. Sarah swallowed her food quickly. "Sorry, what did you say?" She said after her food was down.

"Tell us the truth." The coyote repeated, her green eyes unwavering.

I stared at her for a moment. Not because I didn't understand her, but because she looked so familiar. I had seen those green eyes, those red flecks in her fur and those dark lines under her eyes.

"Tell us that we aren't strong, but we can be. Tell us that we have something, more than this cave, to live for. Tell us that there is hope. I know there is."

I stared at her, unsure of what to say.

She met my stare with the same intensity. She knew me, far more than I knew her.

She stood up and walked closer to me. Her fur smelled faintly like sagebrush. "You know who I am, don't you?"

I shook my head. "No, um, I don't think we've met."

She closed her eyes to hold back tears, and I was about to apologize, but she shushed me. "Shhh. I shouldn't expect you to. You were very young."

"Wait, you knew me when I was little?" I asked eagerly.

She nodded, her face somber. "Yes, I knew you. A mother can't forget the child she abandoned."