Ironically, anxiety has kept me alive.

For anyone who's dealt with any kind of normal fear, like heights, spiders, or snakes, you probably don't understand why that's ironic. But for anyone who's had irrational fears, you get what I'm talking about.

I've never been afraid of ghosts or monsters. In fact, I didn't believe in them until a year ago, when a shape shifter took over my tribe by impersonating my dead leader. Within a few days, I quickly discovered that all the monsters regular coyotes were afraid of—wendigos, evil spirits, skinwalkers—weren't just tall tales to scare little pups into behaving.

I'm not scared of them now because I can handle them. Since I've left the Piedra, my adoptive tribe, I've learned a lot about fighting demons, but nothing about social situations.

It was a cold day, even for the winter season. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, but the sun didn't give any warmth. It weakly simmered in the sky, hiding behind a thin, gauzy fog. Even though I was in a desert, everything was cold. Even the air felt like dry, frozen stones.

I was far into Yootaw, and the scenery had changed drastically. All the extra foliage, no matter how scrubby it was, allowed for a lot of good hiding spots for evil creatures. They liked sneaking up on me.

Snap!

I ducked, avoiding the long, brown teeth of the monster above me. It glared at me with its beady eyes, smoke puffing from crusty nostrils.

I grinned and pounced to the left. "Come and get me, you skid mark!" I barked.

It roared with frustration, reared in its hind legs and charged. Right before it could run me over, I jumped vertically, twisting in the air and landing on its head.

It shook its head violently, trying to fling me off, but I bit it's long ear, hanging on like a stubborn flea.

It wailed with frustration, bucking and kicking. I grabbed its fur with my claws, but the muscular pelt was hard to hang on to. The monster bucked me loose, leaving me flailing in the air like a wagging tail.

I let out a muffled scream between gritted teeth, feeling my gut churn each time I went up, and my ribs groan each time I slammed down.

I hoped the monster would get bored soon and slow down, but it got smart. It bucked me into a nearby wall, crushing my face and shoulders against the crumbly red and white limestone.

I blacked out for a second. I must have let go, because I slid down the sandy wall, and the monster was standing over me, drooling and breathing heavily in my face.

I came to when the monster had my head halfway in his mouth. I moved quickly and shoved my paws down his throat, ignoring the rancid smell or the squishy tongue in my face.

Its gag reflex forced my paws out of its throat, but I wasn't giving up so easily.

The monster started pacing around, my butt hanging out of his mouth and wondering how he could dislodge a coyote from his throat. He tried to bite me, but he only had two long incisor teeth at the front of his mouth. They were only good for eating giant weeds or skinning the bark off trees.

Within a few minutes, the monster collapsed, spasming and choking for air. It's tongue quivered uncomfortably in my face.

Soon after, it stopped moving. I crawled out quickly, gagging with relief, but its jaws snapped around my waist.

"Are you kidding me?" I muttered. This one wasn't going down without some dirty tricks.

It stood up and shook me back and forth, making my head spin.

I was getting dizzy, but I was able to slip my back paw down by his throat. With a well-calculated (but mostly lucky) kick, I sliced it open. Cold fluid came out, and it roared in pain, gagging on black blood. It dropped to the ground again, my waist still clamped in its jaws.

I froze, waiting a long time for the monster to move, but nothing happened. It was dead.

"You did it, Astor!"

A little boy and his older sister came out from their hiding spot behind a dead Juniper tree. They grinned at me, wagging their tails.

"I can't believe it! This rabbit has been bugging us for months, how did you get rid of him so quickly?" His sister said, coming closer to me.

I tried to pry myself out of the rabbit monster's jaws. "If given the chance, rabbits'll eat everything in sight. They take on more than they can chew, though. And they can't bite you if you're stuck in their throat." I said between pants, still struggling. "Um, could you help me, River?"

"Oh, of course! Sliver, come help!" She said.

With all three of our feeble efforts, the rabbit's jaws opened with a crack, letting me and a pool of black blood slip out.

"Eww," Sliver said, scrunching up his face. "You smell like puke."

I flicked the spit and gooey blood off my paws. "Thanks."

River prodded the rabbit's tongue, looking at its rolled eyes. "What do we do with it now? Can we eat it?" She asked me.

I pushed her away from the rabbit, my paw leaving a gooey paw print on her chest. "Ummm, no. There's a special cleansing process for every monster. It'll come back to life if I don't get it done soon."

"Can we help?" Sliver asked, begging with round, orange eyes. "We'll do everything you say, just like you asked us to do before."

"Uhhh I don't know—" I started, but River cut me off.

"Please? It's the last thing we could do, since you've helped us so much." She stood really close to me, batting her eyelashes.

These coyotes were weird. They were actually asking to help get rid of the monster. Most tribes just wanted me to deal with it. But I think these two really liked me. Especially River.

I cleared my throat. "Ahhhh, um, no. I'm really fine by myself, thanks."

"Alright, have it your way. But you're invited to supper. Our tribe will be thrilled!" River said.

I nodded, grinning awkwardly. "Sounds fabulous."

"See you then!" She said, winking at me.

They waved to me with their tails, then left. I didn't relax until they were gone.

Once they passed over a ridge, I let out a sigh of relief and let myself slouch. I hate coyotes. I thought to myself.

I took my time removing the rabbit's legs and made sure to bury them in deeper holes than I needed, even though the ground was about as soft as bedrock. As I worked, I let my mind wander.

Should I go eat with them?

No way. Absolutely not.

But it's the polite thing to do.

I don't care about being polite.

Yes I do. I'm a very charismatic, charming, delightful young male, and I am very polite.

Ew, no I'm not.

But you're hungry! You haven't eaten for two days!

I don't care, I don't like food. And they'll just do what every tribe does to you: offer you their finest female and beg you to stay and protect them.

Eh, you're right. But I'll just say what I always say: thank you, but no, I'm busy.

And you're already with Sego . . .

I sighed, climbing out of the hole I had dug. I hadn't seen Sego in so long. Most of the time I could distract myself from her, but she always came up, resurfacing from the back of my mind like a recurring dream.

I promised her I would be back, but I didn't know when. There were a lot of monsters, and a lot of tribes who needed my help. And I wasn't any closer to finding the Shifter or how to destroy him than I was a year ago. I've been walking along Eyeseffendee, searching for a monster or spirit or coyote or whatever who knew his name: the secret to stripping him of his powers.

I looked at the rabbit's dead face, tongue still lolling out and flies buzzing around its throat. Do you know his name? I asked inaudibly.

It was dead, so it couldn't speak back. I sighed.

It seems odd talking to monsters, but I had picked up a little trick not too long after I left the Piedra. I found a group of spirits, similar to Sarah's flock, but they could communicate with me. They heard my thoughts, and I could hear theirs. They must have thought my mission was worth while, so they were willing to help me out. I learned how to communicate with other sprints and monsters from them, and how to get rid of most of the unnatural creatures in the area.

I could talk to most monsters, but they didn't always reply. And none of them gave me any clues to where the Shifter or his name would be.

The sun drifted farther in the sky, dipping towards the west and turning an ugly yellow color. It's diffused light hurt my eyes and gave me a headache.

Trotting over the ridge daintily was River, holding up a fake but fancy gait. "Hey Astor!" She called out.

I looked up from the hole I was covering, red dirt on my nose. "Hmm." I grunted, then carried on.

"You never said if you were coming or not." She said, sitting uncomfortably close to me.

"Ummmm," I mumbled, not sure what to tell her. "I'm kinda busy, and I'm not that hungry—" I muttered, my face still in the dirt.

"Sorry, I cant hear you, what was that?" River asked sweetly.

I lifted my head and wiped the dirt off my nose. "Sure! I can't think of anything I'd want to do more!" I said over-enthusiastically.

"Great!" River yipped, wagging her tail. "We'll wait for you, but take your time. There's a river between here and camp, you can rinse off there."

I nodded, smiling painfully.

"Oh, and Astor?" She asked, dipping her head. "You can sit by me."

I nodded. I wasn't going to sit anywhere near her.