Sun setting last night, birds flying home, bats just emerging and Walter starts to growl. He's caught a scent, heard something on the ridge, and that's when these three appear.
After a few quiet weeks, coyotes. They're new here, large and strong and healthy and fearless. They sweep down to the flats and the canyon goes silent except Walter, the growl a sustained tone now.
They're eating up distance without breaking a trot, scanning as they move through the meadow. In a moment they're back up above and Walt's straining to chase, valiant if not very wise.