Meg got tired of staring at dumpy camel asses after the first ten minutes. She got tired of the smell even faster. The five of them had been marching for over an hour and she had run out of things to think of and now there was nothing to do but look at the rise and fall of camel butt and the swishing of their tails. She stole a glance at chat but didn’t focus on it too long. It had once again become a river of words from millions of usernames she didn’t recognize. Nor could she make out what they were saying.

“Lullaby and goodnight.”

Meg stopped in her tracks and spun around. She stared into the night and listened hard. Had she really just heard singing? She strained her ears but only heard the sound of her heart beat and the noise of her own breathing.

She looked left then right, pausing a second each time to stare at the moonlit darkness around them. They were slowly leaving the hills behind and the sand had returned in a single bumpy plain of nothingness and boulders. She turned around and jogged after the camels. It was a short run. The creatures were in no mood for anything close to exercise.

She wasn't sure if she should shout out the warning code. Technically she hadn't seen a coyote. She wasn't even sure if she had heard anything. It could have been the wind. Meg rolled her eyes.

"Lullaby and goodnight."

Meg whipped around again and raised her claws. There was nothing but hills behind her. Yet she had definitely heard a voice.

"Are you guys hearing this?" She shouted.

"Hearing what?" Bruce yelled.

"A voice saying lullaby and goodnight."

"Do you see anything?" Shaynala said.

"Negative mozzarella," Meg replied.

"Keep your eyes open," Shaynala said.

Meg turned back around and kept pace with the camels. She listened for the strange voice in the night but heard only the muffled stomp of camel hooves and the swish of their tails. The boulders grew larger as they walked and in the bright moonlight they looked like misshapen giants melted by the sun.

She kept her head moving from left to right, scanning the night for anything that didn't fit. There was nothing though. The voice was gone and soon she began to think it had been her nerves playing tricks on her.

Are you alright? You're falling behind."

Meg looked up from her plodding feet and expected to see Bruce beside her. She was alone. Meg kept walking. Enemies in the game had a zone of engagement. They didn't interact with you if you were outside that zone. You could go right up to the edge and be fine but step over it and they'd know.

Different enemies had different kinds of zones. The smarter the animal the larger the zone. So how smart were coyotes. Once upon a time they had been a real problem in the real world. But mankind had dealt with them in the same cruel fashion as they did with all pests and now coyotes were rare.

Growing up her father had told her stories about them attacking small dogs and pet cats. Some had even stolen babies out of their cribs.

In mythology they were seen as trickster spirits and something to avoid. And these were fantasy coyotes with a quest line.

She figured it was safe to assume they had a fairly large zone of engagement and if she were hearing one's voice she was in that zone. Maybe they all were. And if they were hunting in a pair like Shaynala had said then they could be in two zones.

Five against two were good odds though. They wouldn't try a head on assault. No matter how fantastical the coyotes were, they were still animals. That meant they would behave like animals. Right now they had a big tempting target and several people guarding it.

If I were a coyote how would I do it? She thought.

Meg imagined herself shrinking down into an adorable coyote, slinking low to the ground, stalking her prey. She would move slowly and use the terrain to her advantage, hiding in the crest of hills and the shadows of boulders. She would move just enough to keep the target in her zone of engagement. She would probe first, test for weak spots and when she found them she would push a little.

And she would keep pushing until she was sure she could handle it. Then she would strike. But there was no way a coyote could take a camel down without one of them noticing.

She hit a wall in her thinking and let go of her coyote self. They were essentially a small caravan. The valuables were in the center and the five of them were around the perimeter on guard duty. But it was far from the perfect defense.

For starters they were spread out. In the event of an attack one of them would have to call out then engage the enemy while the others rushed to provide aid. That was a problem as well. An attack would pull them out of position and leave the camels exposed. One coyote could draw attention to itself and retreat while its mate brought down a camel. Then all they had to do was hide until they had moved on. After that they could enjoy their meal in private.

It wouldn't be a meal. It would be a feast, she thought.

An adult Bactrian camel weighed up to a thousand pounds. If she remembered correctly Byron had once explained to her that a coyote only needed two to three pounds of food a day. With two coyotes that was only six pounds of food. That meant that nine hundred and ninety four pounds would go to waste. Unless the coyotes lingered after the kill and continued to eat day after day. But the body would rot before they could eat the whole thing.

Thinking about it in mathematical terms unsettled her. Maybe she was giving the developers too much credit but she didn't think they would make a quest just for two coyotes to waste good meat. But it was still the early release phase and they would no doubt have an update before opening it to the general audience. Maybe they hadn't figured out the balance for this particular quest. Maybe they'd change it to wolves in the future.

The future didn't help her now though. Somewhere close by were two hungry predators playing a game she didn't quite understand. And if she couldn't figure it out one of them might end up dead. Or a camel could be lost and that was just as bad. From a financial standpoint it was actually better for Shaynala to lose the four of them instead of a camel.

If that did happen though at least Shaynala would avenge them. There wouldn't be a coyote left in the desert once she and her blood horny sword were done.

Two to three pounds a day. Nine hundred and ninety four pounds of meat wasted. The numbers rolled and tumbled through her brain. They clawed and grabbed but couldn't hold on. She chased them in circles never quite able to catch up.

Why had the developers chosen coyotes? What was so special about them? They weren't even native to China which was what the game was loosely based on.

Meg squeezed the straps of her backpack and went over what she knew all over again. It wasn't much. They hunted in pairs. They weighed between fifteen and forty six pounds and could get to be almost three feet long. They were clever and Byron had told her they put up a good fight, adapting to urban environments almost as well as raccoons.

And while they did attack people it wasn't common. Usually the human got too close or got between it and its food. Even stealing babies was a crime of opportunity. Easy meat. According to Byron they could be scared off with loud noises or a garden hose. Some people filled soda cans with pennies and threw them at the coyotes to scare them off.

None of her animal facts helped and rather than continue the futile exercise she moved onto other things. Like what the coyotes had done so far. They had sung to her which was friggin weird and then they had told her she was falling behind. Why?

It was obvious they were searching for a path of attack. Shaynala had been right. The slowest camels were at the back of the column and like all predators they wanted the easiest meal possible. Had she passed the test? Were they slipping away in search of some other meal? Terrified of the blue dragon yelling at her friends about mozzarella.

That didn't make sense either. This was a quest linked specifically to their voices in the night. What they said had to mean something.

The first thing she had heard was lullaby and goodnight. An old German lullaby written by Johannes Brahms in 1868. The rest of the lyrics were pretty tame and all about giving your baby a good and safe nights sleep. And now a coyote was singing it.

Was it trying to lure her into a sense of security? Plying her with thoughts of maternal love and affection.

Jokes on you Mr. Coyote, she thought. My mom wasn't the cuddling type.

After the lullaby she'd heard Bruce ask if she was okay. He'd warned her she was falling behind. The coyotes had used a comforting introduction then tried to induce fear. And they had known she would respond to Bruce's voice.

That could only mean they had been watching them for a while. Watching and listening. They may have even seen her and Bruce mash mouths together.

Creepy peeping tom coyotes, she thought.

It still didn't make sense. Coyotes targeted animals that were smaller than them. Most predators did, especially those who didn't have numbers on their side. Camels were just too big.

She sighed and shook her head. If the coyotes were starving they might try it. She had seen lions go after elephants. Meg opened her quest log and studied the quest VOICES IN THE NIGHT. There was no new information. All they had to do to complete it was make it to the watering hole with the party intact.

Her brain perked up. The quest didn't say anything about the camels. She swapped the quest log for her party menu and saw small portraits of herself and the others. There were no camels.

She closed her menu and realigned her thinking. If the camels weren't the target then they were. The coyotes weren't probing for a way to get at the camels. They were probing to find out which one of them would make good prey.

"Negative mozzarella," Master Leroy said. "But someone asked me an embarrassing question."

"Negative mozzarella," Bruce replied. "what was the question?"

"I'd rather not say," Master Leroy said.

"How do I know you're not a coyote?" Bruce said.

"I said negative mozzarella," Master Leroy said.

"You can't tell us it's an embarrassing question and not share with the rest of us," Bruce said.

"I can too," Master Leroy said.

Meg slowed her walk and turned around a full three hundred and sixty degrees. She didn't see any slinking shadows or hungry eyes.

"They just asked me one too," Bruce said.

"Care to share with the class?" Master Leroy said.

"No," Bruce said.

Master Leroy scoffed. "Hypocrite."

"Negative mozzarella," Meg said. "I don't think they want the camels. I think they're after us."

"Negative mozzarella," Shaynala said.

Unlike the others she had a way of making it sound incredibly appealing and Meg couldn't help but think of her biting into a mozzarella stick, the cheese stretching out away from her mouth. Meg swallowed hard and shuddered.

"What makes you think we're their prey?" She said.

"For starters a camel has too much meat for a coyote. And when they spoke to me they used Bruce's voice the second time. I'm assuming those questions they asked you two were of a personal nature as well."

"It most certainly was," Master Leroy said.

"They just asked me if my husband takes me from the rear," Shaynala said. Meg heard the whine of her sword leaving the sheathe and Shaynala yelled into the night. "I am not afraid of your tricks, you jumped up sand dogs. Come and get a taste of my steel!"

The night and the coyotes offered no reply.

"How far away is the watering hole?" Meg said.

"At least another hour, maybe two."

Best case scenario they had to survive for sixty minutes. Worst case it was a hundred and twenty minutes. Both were doable with five well armed people. Meg's brain perked up. Out of all five of them only Shaynala had an actual weapon. The rest of them were unarmed. But if coyotes were smart enough to mimic voices they might recognize the threat a Loong posed. They might even be able to sense a person's aura. Bruce's was probably chock full of magic energy.

The only one of them who couldn't defend themselves was the Zhanglao woman they had rescued. And they hadn't talked to her yet. Meg drifted back and to the left and looked at her. She plodded through the sand, her dress clinging to her slender body as the wind blew against her. Her head was down and she moved as if the world didn't exist.

Looking at her made Meg think of the math again. Two to three pounds of meat a day. Two coyotes. Nine hundred and ninety four pounds of camel wasted. The wind rushed past her and rustled the hem of the woman's dress. It flapped around her legs and finally settled against her body. It made Meg think of mozzarella sticks again. And then the math repeated in her skull.

She almost didn't see it. Her brain was practically begging her to take notice. To fixate on the scene in front of her and notice what was wrong. But there was so much random data bouncing through her head all she could hear was the math.

Then Meg's mozzarella fantasy drew her gaze down the line of the woman's back and to her firm apple shaped ass and she understood what was about to happen. As the wind blew the woman's dress flared up and revealed a pair of tan feet.

Meg's eyes narrowed. In the cave they had found her a dress and a pair of slippers taken off the charred remains of a bandit. Meg hadn't paid too much attention but she hadn't seen the woman remove them either.

Meg's eyes darted back to the woman's ass. It was wrong too. The woman they had rescued was slim and gorgeous but her time among the bandits had rendered her almost skin and bones. She had fainted during their first march towards the watering hole. Unless freedom had rejuvenated her there was no way she could have such thick glutes.

Meg flexed her claws and shook out her limbs. The wind rustled her scales. She was sure something was wrong but how could she warn the others? She couldn't exactly yell, YO THAT ASS AIN'T RIGHT!

She took her eyes off the woman and moved back to the rear of the column. She focused on the camel's hooves, trying to get a feeling for their rhythm, then pushed her way in between the last two camels in the group. At the center of their small pack she turned sharply to the left and stepped out in front of the Zhanglao woman.

"Excuse me miss," Meg said. "Where are your shoes?"

"I think we should make hot frothy love under these stars."

The sound of Bruce's voice trickling into her ears distracted her for half a second but it was enough to make her pause. The woman bared her teeth and leapt into the air with her arms extended. Meg recovered from the coyote trick and bent low with her claws out. But it was too late.

In midair the woman's body shuddered and sparkled in the moonlight. Her skin tore into ribbons of tan pink flesh and peeled away to reveal a sleek brown coat of fur. Her dress fell away. Meg's eyes widened, suddenly staring at a full grown coyote flying at her through the air, and she yelled.

"MOZZARELLA!"