The thought froze his blood more than the cold ever could. Erian struggled upright with clumsy effort, pressing his palms into the ground. The muscles in his arms protested with deep, stabbing aches.
The fabric of his clothes scraped against his skin, and a sticky warmth slid down his right arm. The dried blood had cracked, bleeding again as he moved.
He got to his knees, unsteady. He had to move, to get away from the coyotes.
He didn't know where to go; all he could do was advance, feeling the air ahead of him with his hands. He took a step, and the sole of his foot brushed against something cold and vertical. He reached out and touched the rock: rough, damp in spots, its edges scratching the tips of his fingers. It was the edge of an abyss. He couldn't keep going that way.
The growls grew louder, but not hurried. They had a steady rhythm, as if the coyotes were stalking him, waiting for him to tire.
One of them let out a sharp, piercing yelp that stabbed into Erian's ears, and another answered with a low, guttural bark. His hands trembled harder.
He turned, searching for a gap to escape through, but he tripped over a loose stone and fell onto his side.
The impact forced a groan from his throat, louder than he would have liked. A metallic taste filled his mouth. He coughed and spat, but the taste clung to his tongue.
The steps drew closer. Erian could hear the crunch of earth beneath claws. Every hair on his body stood on end.
Then a sound tore through the air… A deep, resonant howl unlike any coyote's. It filled the space like thunder without lightning, vibrating through the ground and into Erian's bones.
The coyotes fell silent at once.
One of them growled in defiance. A dull thud, a fractured yelp, and then chaos: bodies colliding, furious barks, claws ripping chunks of soil.
The noise was so intense that Erian curled up against the rock, covering his head with his arms.
A harsh pant came close, so near that the warm, damp breath brushed against his neck.
Then a blow to the ground made the earth tremble beneath his hands. Another yelp, longer and weaker than the first, stretched into the air until it faded into silence.
Erian stayed still, holding even his breath. He heard no more footsteps, no growls, no howls. Only the rapid, erratic pounding of his heart.
He didn't know whether to feel relieved or terrified. Something had made the coyotes flee, or killed them, but that something could come for him at any moment.
He did not try to move. He remained leaning against the rock, feeling the cold seep through the tears in his clothing.
The pain in his legs and ribs did not ease. Sometimes it sharpened; other times it became a dull throb, keeping pace with his pulse. Now and then, a shiver ran through him from his jaw to the tips of his toes.
Erian stayed curled up, still and silent, with his back to the rock. He didn't know how many hours passed, but he felt the air grow colder and sharper. The faint warmth of the day had vanished, and the dimness wrapped around him without him changing his position.
Every moment, he expected to hear that deep howl again, or the click of claws on earth. Thankfully, neither came.
Weariness weighed on him, but fear kept him from giving in to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the coyotes' shrieks, followed by the deep roar that silenced them.
In those moments, his heart thudded so fiercely in his chest that he curled up even tighter against the rock.