“Thank you,” he murmured to the sand as he set a second blade aside and began working on another. “This will be an adventure for all of us.”

Honey

Under clear blue skies, with a hot sun no longer quite directly overhead, the two dogs trotted through the desert scrub. One was a honey-blonde pit bull, the other a narrow-hipped short chestnut-haired mongrel like you might find on any rez. They were bound for a nearby hilltop of red stone that reached up tall from the desert floor. It had a flat top with Ponderosa pines climbing up its red rock sides.

It’s one of those places where medicine swirls in never-ending circles, the honey blonde explained to her companion as they wove a trail through the cacti and mesquite toward the small mesa.

A vortex, the greyish red dog told her. That’s what they call it.

Hmm.

What?

I thought the name would be more resonant, Honey replied. Vortex. It sounds like a puppy gagging.

The dog that was Joe gave a sharp bark of laughter.

Why are you laughing?

I’m sorry, he said. It’s just that you’re so new to language, but already you have such a strong opinion about it.

Is that a bad thing? Voicing strong opinions?

I don’t know that it’s bad or good, but it’s very human.

They’d left the pups behind in the arroyo to be watched over by one of Honey’s sons before setting off for the mesa. Honey tried not to worry about them as she led the way up through the red rocks to the top. There was nothing nearby to hurt them, but she carried a dread inside her from having reached out to Joe’s friend Jilly earlier. She hadn’t been able to make a strong enough connection, which was why they were on their way to the vortex, but it had been enough for her to want to be with her family at this moment, not chasing across the desert and into the worlds beyond.

She loved her boys, and had confidence in them, but at a time like this, she would only be able to relax if she was keeping the young ones safe herself.

To distract herself, she thought about what Joe had just said.

Being human, she said. I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing, either.

Welcome to the confusing world of the five-fingered beings who walk on two legs.

Now it was Honey’s turn to bark a laugh, and she could feel some of her tension draining away.

I think “human” is an easier way to say it, she said.

Joe grinned at her. If not as accurate.

But at least it’s shorter.

But is shorter always best? That makes me think that—

Here we are, Honey broke in as they crested the mesa and came out onto its flat top.