She is crouching beneath the rock’s overhang.  Her long, bushy tail is curved around her newborns. She growls deep and fierce, showing teeth and fangs.  We’d seen her mate, cold and stiff among the tumble of rocks below, a single splotch of blood at his temple.

“They shoot coyotes on sight here,” Beth whispers to me.

“I’ve heard as much,” I whisper back.  The she coyote’s wolf-like eyes bore into mine. My heart, a mother’s heart, pangs for her. She will starve now, she and her pups.

“The hunters should have finished the job. She won’t leave them. Now they will starve or be ravaged by other animals.” Beth grimaces.