So what if there was a coyote in Roseview Park?

To Casey, it made no difference, even though her sister said:

"It's wild, Casey. Hungry, wild, and desperate. And I've heard it's mangy, too. Just let the authorities deal with it, and then we can go back to Roseview together. Okay?" 

[i]The authorities[/i]. Like they could tell a squirrel from a chipmunk. A starling from a sparrow. A public menace from a harmless canine.

Something they could control from something they couldn't. [i]Shouldn't[/i]

Roseview Park was never a collection of plants and animals to her—where others cooed at the parts, she admired the whole, the underlying heartbeat tying everything together. If the coyote lived there, then it was part of the park too.

Casey gave her sister an answer—the same answer she gave the big red sign posted at the park entrance two days later. A hard kick that held nothing back.

She watched the red-faced coyote swing back and forth, away and towards, glaring at her with angry eyes that were [i]both[/i] glinting. A caricature.

The coyote didn't patrol every one of Roseview's winding paths, bridges and tunnels, did it? It didn't poison the blueberry bushes or fell the high-hanging apples. And it didn't stop her from standing under Roseview's smaller waterfalls, resisting its push, like a thousand warm hands, forcing her to appreciate how gentle a force gravity really is.

No, it was just one animal. At thirteen years old and only growing taller, she knew she could take it one-on-one. And there was a good chance she would never even see it.

[hr]

[i]There it is.[/i]

Casey thought it to herself, careful not to move, or to make a sound.

Stalking through the underbrush, not twenty feet away from where Casey ate her lunch, was the reason the park was closed. It was so shrunken—its fur so ragged. Its ribs were showing. A rabbit hung like a doll in its mouth. A good meal, but it might not be enough to keep it alive.

As it slinked under the cover of the leaves, Casey saw it favoring one foreleg; the other had a narrow gash from shoulder to paw, lined with wet brown fur.

"Whoa," Casey said, and her heart jumped as the animal turned. 

The coyote paid her a long, uninterested look. She didn't move. She could talk big, but she still knew to avoid a confrontation.

It limped down a slope, watched over by rows of curving oak trees. It left a trail of brownish blood in the grass, though that could have been from the rabbit, or itself.

[i]It doesn't matter[/i], Casey thought. [i]They're one in the same[/i].

Minutes passed, and the coyote came up again, ducking back into the overgrowth and heading for the sound of running water, it seemed. The dead rabbit was nowhere to be seen.

And Casey was struck with a thought.

[i]I've never seen a coyote's home before.[/i]

Stepping quickly, she made her way down the slope. She was off the trail now, away from the lamps and the benches, dropping deeper than she'd ever been in the park. She pressed her toes in the dirty slope, the earth giving way to her shoes a little more with each step. She had never seen this part of Roseview before. Had it always been there? Or had the earth sunk down—maybe even below sea level—just so this coyote could hide from [i]the authorities[/i]?

The trail of blood was her guide, but it grew fainter and fainter, until finally it ended, seemingly having gone nowhere at all.

She was in a clearing, under leaves she didn't even recognize. They hung only inches above her head, and she was crouching. Sunlight didn't quite get this far, though it was trying, casting a soft green glow over everything.

A shiver ran up her spine, stopping cold at her heart. She heard a growl behind her, and she turned.

Standing in her footsteps, with a rotting rabbit in its teeth, was a coyote. Its eyes glowed yellow, and its fur bristled fully. Its teeth were shiny and red. Its muscles twitched with every tiny fraction of movement, as it stalked closer. A darkness seemed to emanate around it, although Casey could see, at the top of the hill behind it, the silhouette of a mangy canine looking on.

The creature dropped the rabbit and licked its maw.

There was a weight like wind, a warmth like water, and Casey became part of Roseview Park.