Coyote by David L. Foster

another door at the rear, there were limited ways that anything could get in and get at them during the night. And the loft with its windows (she was guessing there would be another window looking out the back) would provide a good view of the rolling fields that surrounded the barn.
    She turned onto the gravel drive, intending to investigate more closely, but soon the dog was scrambling in front of her, blocking her way. It gave a low growl, looking between her and the buildings down the driveway.
    She stopped, briefly, to consider. The others had been walking several paces behind her, finally growing quiet as their legs grew weary toward the end of the day. The Mule looked especially sweaty and tired, struggling under the large burden of food he had picked up earlier in the day. At least he wasn’t giving up.
    Soon the others caught up to her and stopped too, glancing at each other but both knowing that asking questions wouldn’t get them much.
    She had followed the dog’s warnings so far, but was not eager to follow this one. This barn was the perfect place for them and she didn’t know what else she might find before nightfall. She took another step forward, but the dog’s growl got louder.
    She looked down, annoyed and distracted.
    “Ticho” she said absently.
    “What’s that?” asked Mule.
    “She said to be quiet.”
    “No you didn’t.”
    She turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.
    He wouldn’t look her in the eye still, but he held his ground. “You said ‘chico’ or something.”
    “Oh,” she said, understanding. “Ticho. It is code-switching. English is not her first language. Sometimes other words slip out.”
    He laughed, as if this was not news to him. “Well the dog seems to like it.”
    “What do you mean?” She looked down at the dog. It was quiet now, looking at her expectantly. It still glanced nervously at the barn and the greenhouses now and then, but most if its attention was on her.
    She decided to try something else. “Sedni.”
    The dog sat down in the road, its attention now completely on her. She stepped forward again, towards the barn and the greenhouses, and the dog’s growling started anew, though it remained sitting.
    “Ticho. K zemi.” The dog ceased its noises and crouched low to the ground. She took a few steps then crouched down behind a low stone wall that bordered the property while she considered her options. The dog followed, low and silent, crouching with her behind the wall as she looked at the greenhouses and the barn. The way the dog obeyed her commands was interesting, but she had more pressing matters to consider. It was enough now that she knew it would stay low and stay quiet.
    Soon the others followed the dog and her, crouching behind the wall. She had made her decision. It was going to get dark soon and this barn looked like the only available shelter nearby. They would have to take a risk.
    Turning away from the wall, she walked a few steps to a nearby brush pile, selecting and hefting a stiff branch about the size of a baseball bat. The Mule did the same, selecting a somewhat bigger branch.
    He turned from the brush pile, a question in his eyes. She pointed to where the wall continued on the opposite side of the driveway. “The Mule will be behind the wall there. Stay low, but stay ready.” He moved across the driveway and got down behind the wall, nodding to her.
    The man looked on, puzzled.
    “Wait a minute, now. The dog growls and so we leave, right? That’s been the pattern so far. I don’t like this place, man. Let’s go.”
    “No,” she said, simply. “This is your shelter tonight.”
    He looked ready to argue for a moment, but soon gave a roll of his eyes and stepped to the brush pile, searching for his own weapon.
    “No,” she said again.
    He stopped, looking up. “What, the Ass gets to defend himself but I don’t?”
    “You say you can run, right?”
    He smiled, giving an energetic little bounce, apparently having already