Dutch ran silently through the quiet streets of the early morning city. He had been living on his own for a while now and he had a pretty good idea of the layout of the city, where he could go, when, and what to avoid. The humans pretty much left him alone so long as he kept his distance, what he hadn't anticipated were the coyotes.

They were worse than dogs and seemed to go out of their way to give him trouble. They always approached him as a band and so far, he had been able to get away from them, whether by running or fighting. But tonight, in the light of an almost half moon, he had gotten careless or they had gotten bolder. Either way he was running for his life from six of the mangy, bottom feeders.

He cut across an open walkway and through a well-known hole in a see-through metal fence. That hole had let him escape some of his human pursuers in the past, but he was bigger than any of the coyotes, so he knew that that hole wouldn't serve that purpose for him here. He saw the terrain of the city in his mind, so much clearer than he had seen his woods, all that time ago before Tony and the metal cages and… him.

He ran hard and jumped over the concrete stream that he had awoken in all those many days ago. The coyotes behind him were not gaining on him but Dutch smelled a change in the air, one or two of them had broken off, to try and flank him, to cut him off? Or had they just given up?

That was a thought that he didn't have the luxury to indulge in. This was an odd feeling. His mind was working differently. He no longer thought the way he had when he was in his forest, or his cage with Tony. His mind had logical thoughts that were so much more far reaching than just the turning of the stars or when to hunt. He could see his territory as roads and fences, those metal things with wheels, and the stretches of time that he could call his own, or that he would have to be cautious because of the people he shared his territory with.

The ground underneath him was starting to be sprinkled with wind swept sand. The city limits were close. He put his nose to the wind and tried to find where the coyotes that had broken off from the main group were. He couldn't smell them. With the wide-open desert just a short distance in front of him, he was sure that the fewer and fewer building that he was running past now wouldn't mask their scent for long if they were there.

He darted across an open road and down through open terrain, the sand ate into his paw pads as he ran. But his claws give him added traction that he hadn't had on the hard-grey surface of the city. He lowered his shoulder and darted off at a hard, ninety-degree angle to the left from the direction he had been running. The coyotes stayed with him but their turns were much more curved and Dutch was able to pour on a little more speed, adding some much-wanted distance between him and his pursuers.

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He caught the scent. He ducked down and did a button hook turn off his hind legs and kicked himself eastward. He glanced around behind him and the two coyotes that had broken away from the main group were coming at him for the west through a small dry creek bed. Dutch was impressed. He hadn't been pushed this hard by a band of coyotes before. He ran eastward deeper into the desert.

He ran for a long time but this chase had gone on long enough. He could have kept going. He could have run till morning. But that would have taken him farther than he wanted to go, and he didn't know what enemies were in front of him. He would rather deal with the known enemy now than add additional unknown enemies further east.

He skidded to a halt and turned to face his pursuers. The six redish tanned furred coyotes slowed and approached him cautiously. They began to separate themselves as they approached the wolf.

Dutch didn't give them the chance to implement any strategy. He charged hard and fast into the far-left coyote. The coyotes braced themselves and moved quickly, but not fast enough. Dutch plowed into the coyote's midsection and clamped his jaws down on its neck.

He didn't finish his foe, he knew he didn't have the time, and going for an opponent's neck felt wrong. He wanted to go for the hind quarters, it was a safer angle of attack, but time consuming to actually bring down prey and it required a pack to be effective, he was alone.

Throwing himself up and over his target he bolted back through the heart of the band of coyotes. He was able to snap down hard at the legs of one of them as he darted past. He tasted the hot copper of blood on his tongue. Wheeling around he charged through the heart of the band again.

Suddenly his leg didn't touch the ground, and was yanked back from him. He yelped in surprise as he was dragged back momentarily by the grip the coyote had on it. He tried to kick out of the hold and forced his body to twist itself, wrenching his leg free. That maneuver cost him a little too much. His back leg didn't want to accept any of his weight.

Seeing the opportunity, one of the coyotes lurched forward and snapped at Dutch's back. The wolf snarled and yapped as he tried to whip his neck around to get a grip on his new attacker. His jaws shut down tight on the animal's leg and jerked it back and away from him, as he side jumped away.

His leg was sore and tender but he forced his weight on it and shot forward away from the band of coyotes. Now that his leg was injured, he knew that he had no hope of getting away from the band. Now, he would have to fight.

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