I drew some of the main characters eyes. Enjoy.

Sarah gasped loudly. "YOU'RE HIS MO-"

I put my paw over her mouth. "Quiet! You are so loud!"

"Sorry." She mumbled underneath my paw. I pulled it away so she could breathe.

"I was his mother," The coyote said, "but not anymore. I revoked that privilege when I left him in the desert to die." She did her best to keep her voice even, but she choked on the last word and began sobbing.

Sarah and I watched awkwardly. She stretched out a paw and patted the coyote's back. "Um, there there."

She snapped at Sarah's touch, her green eyes glaring wildly. Sarah jumped behind me, whining a quick apology.

"Don't touch me!" She growled between long teeth.

I gulped. If this coyote was really my mother, I wasn't sure if I wanted to know her.

"Sorry. She does that." I said quietly.

The coyote let her lips relax and hackles smooth. She realized her mistake once she calmed down.

"Oh. Forgive my emotions. I . . . I'm not allowed to be touched. Or talked to."

"Why not?" I asked just as quietly.

"I . . . I'm nothing. I'm nothing but a slave now." She grumbled. When she looked down at her paws, her neck fur stuck up in dirty, matted clumps. "I shouldn't be talking to you. I'm sorry. Forget what I've said."

She tried to scuttle away, but I blocked her. "Wait! Hold on!"

She looked up at me. "Mi hijo, leave me!" She darted down a side tunnel, slithering into the darkness.

"Wait!" I yipped, going after her.

Sarah called out to me, but I wasn't worried about her right then. I was worried about the truth.

After twenty strides, I couldn't see a thing, but it didn't matter. The scraping sandstone and soft panting led the way. As she turned right, my hide scraped against the wall. When she made a left, I smashed face-first into stone.

I cursed and shook my head. After listening for a moment, I heard movement to my left and Sarah yelling behind me. I headed left.

A dozen other turns and bruises later I could tell the coyote was getting tired. Her breaths were thick, like the air around us, and her scent was stronger. It filled the cave like a summer thundercloud filled the sky.

"Wait! Hold up! I-I'll forgive you if you stop!" I barked.

The coyote stopped abruptly and I nearly ran into her bony hide. "Oh, sorry," I muttered, taking two steps back.

"Astor! Astor, wait for-" Sarah slid down the cave and thumped into my back. I growled as a friendly reminder to get off.

"You . . . forgive . . . me?" The darkness said between raspy breaths. "No. No one could ever forgive me for what I did."

I took a deep breath. "I'll forgive you if you tell me what happened. Are you my mom? My real mom?"

It was quiet, then she answered. "Yes. But I don't deserve to be your mom. I . . . I gave you up a long time ago. I didn't think you would survive. How are you alive?"

I let out a small laugh. "I ask myself that question all the time."

"Where have you been?" She asked.

"I've been with the Piedra tribe mostly, but these last few days have been pretty crazy. A shape shifter impersonated our leader and took over the tribe. He exiled me and I found Saguaro."

"But my flock calls me Sarah." She added.

"Well isn't that neat." The coyote said sarcastically. She had probably overheard the story a dozen times from Sarah and the other Guerro. I could see where I inherited my sass from.

"Uhm, what's your name?" I asked.

"Mirage. And I assume you don't call yourself Scrap anymore."

"Uh-" I cleared my throat to keep it even, "um, no. I'm Astor."

"That's a handsome name. Whoever chose it was very kind and clever."

I imagined Hare licking my dirty fur, considering names for a sick little pup. "Yeah, she is."

"Your biological father, Candor, picked out your first name." Mirage growled. She spit at his name (which landed on my paw). "We had three strong, beautiful pups—and a tiny little runt. Candor was proud of Eagle, Talon and Flare, but not of you. He said you were nothing but a scrap of fur.

"He hated you; he was so ashamed that his mate was responsible for such a weak pup. He didn't believe a runt could come from a strong, handsome coyote like himself. Candor said that if I didn't get rid of the scrap, he wouldn't be my mate any more. I was so foolish then . . . how could I be so foolish? Why did I think he was worth more than my child?"

She became quiet.

How long had she been pondering that question?

"I took you to the desert. I didn't want to. It broke my soul. Looking back, I can't understand why I did it. I was obsessed with Candor, I didn't really love him. I didn't know what love was. I took you northward, far away from Eyeseffendee so you wouldn't die by the claws of a demon or some other devilish creature.

"When I came back to the cave, Eagle, Talon and Flare were gone. A water patrol found their bodies in the river."

Oh. Wow. I didn't want to wonder how my siblings had got there. The only reply was a sniffle from Sarah.

"I prayed that someone would come find you, but I didn't dare to be so hopeful. Turns out the spirits answered my prayers.

"You are a special coyote, Astor. You have been saved for something important. I believe it is you who should lead us."

"Um, no. I shouldn't lead you." I said. "Verde can do that. I don't know anything about war, or strategy, or socializing skills—"

"That doesn't matter." Mirage interrupted. "That stuff comes with time. Verde hasn't been in many wars anyways. What does matter is passion! Determination! You have those, don't you?"

"Um—"

"Don't you care about your tribe? Don't you want to save them? Don't you want to protect the desert from the Shifter, and what he has done to your adopted family?" She interrupted me again.

I found myself nodding, even though she couldn't see me. I did care about my tribe. All of them. Even Creek and Horizon, as much as I hate to admit it. I wanted to save them.

"Well? What do you say?" Mirage asked again.

"I . . . I'll do it."

"Good. I am proud of you, child." I felt her lick my cheek.

I didn't lick hers back. I wasn't so sure if I could forgive her either.

<----•••---->

I took in a shaky breath, doing my best not to pee. The Guerro was a huge tribe. I had started counting them when they gathered around me, but I felt like throwing up when I got to thirty, so I had to stop.

Sarah sat close by, but she let me have the spot light. Literally. I stood under a large hole in the ceiling, allowing dark overcast and sprinkling rain to fall through. It illuminated my trembling body, but left the other coyotes in dusty darkness.

I stared at them, forgetting everything I had planned to say.

"Astor? Are you okay?" Verde asked quietly, bumping me gently.

I jumped at his touch. "Uh, yeah. Great. Dandy. Fabulous."

"Let's get going, we're wasting time."

I nodded.

I swallowed my fear. It went down like a rock. "Um, hi, I'm Astor of Kalorato. I've heard a lot about you guys . . ."

Their gaunt eyes stared right at me.

"Uh . . . Uh . . ."

Sarah smiled at me encouragingly.

You've got this, Astor.

I coughed. "The . . . stories I heard. They were about brave warriors. They defeated monsters and bad coyotes. They were strong, and fast, and courageous . . . but I don't see those warriors now."

I was afraid they would growl and attack me, but they just sat there, nodding forlornly in agreement. Except for the big golden coyote. He snarled at his son's insolent comment.

"But Sarah—er, Saguaro, has taught me that seeing isn't always believing. That's been a hard lesson, but I think I understand it now. You guys don't look brave or strong, but I know you are. I believe those old stories, and I believe you can become the Guerro warriors again."

Some of the coyotes perked up and looked at me. Two on the edges walked away.

"You've heard about my tribe. The Piedra. There aren't very many of them, and we've recently lost our chief—" my voice cracked, and two young coyotes snickered.

I wanted to scream at them. I was doing my best, pouring out my heart, and they didn't even care.

Give up. Just leave. My mind told me.

I closed my eyes, trying to push the voices out. I couldn't afford to listen to them right now.

"I can't do this on my own. A shape shifter has impersonated my chief, and he is allying with our rival tribe to take control of the desert. I need and army to defeat him and liberate my tribe. Will you become the warriors you once were, and fight for something right? For innocent coyotes who need your help?"

They were quiet, until an older grey coyote with gold flecks stepped forward. "I will." He said.

It felt like an eternity before Mountain stepped forward with Sky. "We will stand with you."

Mirage stood up. "I will fight with my son!"

The large gold coyote jumped up, his hackles bristling and green eyes narrow. "Quiet, slave! You are not allowed to speak!"

Mirage raised her tail and came into the light  with me. "I shall speak, Candor! I shall fight with my son!"

"This isn't your son." Candor growled. "Your sons are dead."

"He is my son. And his name is no longer Scrap; it is Astor of Kalorato." Mirage barked warningly.

A soft gasp fluttered through the tribe. Mirage's and Candor's doomed runt had survived, and he had found his way back.

Candor came into the light, his thick shoulder muscles rippling as he walked. He stopped only when he and I were a whisker apart.

He scowled down at me with a scarred muzzle, his thick neck fur puffing out like a mane. Candor intimidated me, but not because of his dominant stature or cruel attitude: What scared me the most was how much I looked like him.

"Please step out of my bubble." I said with surprising clarity.

He growled, and backed away. "I won't fight for a brat like you." He spat on my paw.

Was it spit on your long-lost-child's paw day?

I shook it off as Verde stepped forward. "I'd be glad to stand with you."

I nodded at him respectfully.

A little female with dark carmel fur stepped forward. She perked her ears up with all the pride she possessed in her small frame. "I will stand for justice!" She cried. A few coyotes snickered, but she didn't let them daunt her.

The rest of the coyotes faded away slowly, drifting back to their corners of the cave. I counted the coyotes standing. Seven, including Sarah and me. I gulped nervously.

"This isn't enough." I said to Verde. "We can't fight the shifter and the Fuego with only eight of us."

"How many coyotes are in the Fuego?" He asked.

"I . . . I don't remember. More than eight. Or ten. And the Shifter has Snake with him. He was bit by a wendigo, he'll transform any day now."

Verde furrowed his eyebrows. "Hmm. It would be helpful if we had Candor with us, he is very skilled with wendigos. But we'll have to make do. The Guerro have made their choice. We can't violate their decisions."

I frowned and slumped my shoulders. I wanted to protest, but Verde was right. We couldn't force them to do anything, even if it was the right thing to do.

"Let's get moving. With a wendigo on our hands, our best asset is time. We've wasted enough of it." Verde said.

He turned to me. "Lead the way, Astor. Take us to the Piedra tribe."