When I wake up, sunlight is just barely creeping into my room through the windows. I stretch, stiff from sleeping curled up last night. Yawning silently, I step into my woven yucca sandals, made by my brother on a hot and bleary day, and slip out of the cliff house, careful not to wake anyone. I have a mother, a father, and two brothers. I am the only girl.

Amazing!

After the sun is completely risen, I climb back down to the ground and stow it back in its hiding place, careful to make sure it’s completely invisible. That’s when the village starts to wake up, coming out of homes, shaking out woven rugs and sleeping coverings, which keep us warm at night.

set off to the corn fields to gather corn, as is my job. I start plucking the corn and setting it in a giant woven basket, to be carried back by me and other girls around the age of fourteen or fifteen. That is when I notice the corn has been chewed, eaten, and a lot of pieces have even been spit back out onto the ground. This couldn’t be a human’s doing,

Could it be a huge, scary animal? I try to suppress a shudder.  I guess I will have to investigate, otherwise this could happen more. I walk through the corn first, in case the guilty party is still here. As I reach the last part of the corn field, I think to myself, I guess they aren’t here. I will have to search beyond the village borders. Then, I stop short. There is something curled up among the corn. I’m scared. What if it is a predator? As I slowly and silently creep closer, I realise it’s a coyote. Oh great. This is not good.

The gears in my brain are turning quickly.  Then I have an idea. The coyote seems to have a liking towards corn, so I snap a piece of corn off of it’s stem. The noise makes the coyote wake up, and it perks it’s ears and raises its head, staring at me. I force myself to calm down. They say coyotes can sense fear and therefore know we are weak. That’s when they attack, they say.  I shake the corn in front of the coyote and back up. It follows because it wants the corn.