He considered the land his own, crossing the farm periodically as part of his wanderings. He had come through the orchards often, knew the voices of the people in the area, preferred to avoid them. Instead he moved quickly, quietly, in the shadows, always on the hunt. Rabbits were the preferred prey in his diet, and he knew well enough to avoid the farms in the area that had livestock. While that kind of prey might be easy to hunt, doing so brought other problems.
The coyote had seen the car pull up at the farmhouse from a distance, had seen the younger couple step out. The female was related, in some way, to the woman who lived there. Her cub, he thought. The male was a newcomer, had only shown up recently. I wonder if they’ve mated yet, the coyote thought.