CUT TO:
INT. PICK UP TRUCK -- DAY.
Cory warms his free hand against the truck's vent. Grabs his coffee. Takes a sip. The coffee's cold. Doesn't matter -- not his first cold cup of coffee. He stares at the road. If the truck had a radio that worked, he'd turn it on.
EXT. BUREAU OF LAND MANAGEMENT FIELD OFFICE -- DAY.
BLM OFFICER TIM WINTER, late 30's, big coat, bigger cowboy hat, stands beside USFWS ENFORCEMENT AGENT DALE BERTRAM, early 30's.
They stare at the coyotes in the bed of Corey's truck.
TIM
Did you see Wyman's sheep dogs near the flock?
CORY
Nope.
TIM
Told me he had six dogs watching over it.
CORY
He don't have six dogs anymore. Those coyotes moved on that flock like they've been doing it all month.
TIM
Buggers are bad this year. We'll be lucky if there's a flock of sheep standing come April.
Tim looks to the STORM CLOUDS that loom over the WIND RIVER MOUNTAIN RANGE like a reckoning.
TIM (CONT'D)
After this storm, I want you up in a chopper. Those mutt's will be easy to spot with a coat of fresh snow. When can your boy fly, Dale?
DALE
We'll see what kind of wind follows the storm. Maybe Wednesday.
He looks at Cory.
DALE (CONT'D)
I got a call from BIA Police, the chief was asking for you. A mountain lion's working through the flocks east of Boulder Flats.
Tim can't help but laugh.
TIM
You'd think folks would learn this isn't sheep country.
They all laugh at that.
DALE
Tore up a horse and some weanlings too.
CORY
That sounds like wolves.
DALE
Chief says it's a cat, and they ain't had no luck getting it. I offered Kenny and his hounds, but they don't want a white man running around on the rez with a firearm.
CORY
They don't want a white man out there period. I'll call him.
TIM
I forget you're part Indian.
CORY
Well ... I'm Indian enough to do favors, but not enough to pull a check.
DALE
Be careful out there. Half those boys are tweaked out of their minds.
Cory doesn't answer.
TIM
Shit, that junk's everywhere now. I'm scared to let my daughter leave the house.
As soon as Tim says it, he wishes he could have it back.
Everyone looks to the ground.
To the mountains. To the storm hovering.
Anywhere but Cory, who stares at the coyotes' corpses in the bed of his truck.
Lifeless eyes stare back.
CORY
I gotta go.
DALE
Okay. Drop those off at Fish and Game.
CORY
Yep.
He climbs in his truck and starts it in one fluid motion. He pulls toward the road as the coming storm inches closer.