“Yeah, right,” Jack says. “Maybe they were here when your Raven pulled the world out of the long ago, but they’re all party for the moment now, man. They wouldn’t know a deep thought if it came up and kicked them in the butt—though speaking of which, they do have nice ones.”

“Then you don’t know them.”

“I know a nice butt when I see it.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jack shrugs. “There’s more I don’t know in this world than I could ever hope to get a handle on. Maybe the crow girls have this hidden deep side to them, maybe they don’t. That’s not the point. The point is you need to loosen up some.”

“You don’t know me, either.”

“True. But I hear the gossip. From all I hear, you’ve spent a long time walking a dark road on your own.”

“I’ve got my reasons.”

“I’m sure you do,” Jack says. “And I’m sure they’re good ones.” Then he shakes his head. “Aw, what the hell do I know? And this isn’t really the time or the place to talk about this kind of thing anyway. I should just learn to mind my own business, but then I wouldn’t be much of a coyote, would I?”

I can’t help but return his smile. He surely does like to run on at the mouth. He’s also nosy, not to mention pushy, but I can tell that none of it comes from a mean spirit. It isn’t that I think he couldn’t be hard, or even cruel. It just isn’t where he’s coming from at the moment.

The two of us stand there looking down at the ceremony and finish our cigarettes. Finally, Jack bends down and puts his out against the granite underfoot. I follow suit.

“So, are you going down?” Jack asks.

I shake my head. “Don’t know that I’d be welcome.”

“Yeah, the cerva always get skittish around predators, even when we’re not hunting. Think we can’t tell the difference between them and the cousins that aren’t our kin.”

“You going?”

“Nope. Same deal. Maybe I’ll stop by that crossroads tree where your little fiddler buried what was left of Anwatan. Pay my respects directly to her.”

I nod. I wait for Jack to leave, but the canid continues to stand beside me, gaze on the fire below.

“You planning to hunt down these bogans?” he asks after a time.

I glance at him. “Seems like a plan. It’s not like Walker’s going to do anything, and doing nothing doesn’t seem right.”

“Well, that’s part of what makes the cerva so special. They’ve got these big open hearts that don’t have any room for violence.” He grins. “Outside of rutting season, that is.”

“I suppose.”

“So do you want some company?”