x marks the spot

Within the murky swampland, the young boy prowled quietly. His red fur, muted by the moonlit shadows of the bogs. Quick and agile, he moved like a practiced hunter, alert to every sound. He was used to the tranquility of night, the soft sounds of frogs and distant screeching of owls. But Redrum did not know that danger was close — four coyotes, with their yellow eyes glinting mischievously, stalked him silently through the wetland. With perfect timing, they closed in on him, hidden by the darkness.

Redrum had little time to react as soon as he heard the faint rustle of leaves and pivoted around on his heels to face his enemies. Four pairs of eyes stared back at him, challenging him despite his bigger size in comparison to them. They had numbers, that was for sure. The coyotes circled him, but he stood his ground, ready to defend himself. The first coyote lunged at him, jaws snapping. Redrum dodged quickly and struck back, teeth meeting the soft flesh of its snout and making the coyote yelp in pain and recoil back.