“What the fuck are you doing?”
“I can’t let this opportunity pass.”
I floated, the momentum gone as I sat fifteen feet from shore. “What opportunity?”
He continued to stare in the direction the wolves came from, sword in hand. “My people are hungry, and meat is hard to come by.”
I grabbed the oars and started to row back.
“Stop.”
“I’m not letting you do this by yourself.”
“I said, stop.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Stay.” He turned back to the wolves. “That’s an order.”
“Well, I don’t follow your fucking orders.” I rowed back to land and felt the bottom of the boat hit the sand.
His eyes were sharper than the tips of arrows. “How dare you defy me?—”
“You don’t have to do everything by yourself.” I opened the pack and searched inside until I found another torch and the vial. I poured it on top, lit it with the flint, and then it carried to land.
“What are you doing?” he hissed. The veins in his neck popped from rage. The rage that had been reserved for the coyotes was now directed at me.
I left my sword at my side and held the torch. “They’re more afraid of the fire than the blade.”
“I can’t protect you.”
“I’m not asking you to.” I moved behind him. “I’ll watch your back in case one sneaks behind you.”
“Hooowwwllll.”
“Howl.
“Hoooowwwwwllll.”
Now, they were right on us, stepping into the light, their teeth bared once again, ready to continue the fight they’d lost. There were so many more of them now. At least thirty.
Morco silenced his protests as he focused on the threat before us. He didn’t adopt a defensive stance. Instead, he kept hissword at his side and stared down the dogs that had come back for another bite.
Just like last time, they all hunched down to the ground and prepared to pounce, small and pathetic alone, but a formidable army when they were lined up together. They did not fight for power or territory—but for food.
They lunged all at once, and Morco swung his blade through the air with both speed and momentum, slicing the first line of coyotes that tried to take a bite. Blood sprayed the sand, and the dogs whimpered from their mortal wounds. It was chaos, coyotes snarling and attacking, Morco cutting them down and throwing off the ones that tried to jump on him.
When they tried to get behind him, I chased them back with the torch and watched their eyes close like the intense light wounded them. “The light hurts their eyes.”
Morco continued to fight, thirty to one, slicing and cutting and throwing off his opponents.
Finally, they retreated as they had before, running into the dark.
Bodies of coyotes lay everywhere, at least a dozen of them.
“Are you okay?” I came to him, bringing the torch to examine him for wounds.
His arm continued to bleed from his previous cut. He now had another on the other arm.
