Chapter Text
To the coyote, a life in peace is a life in turmoil.
It runs hot as the desert sun on black tar, and he feels it in the burn of his paws, coursing through his blood as he enacts his latest plan. Faulty machinery litters the ground behind him along with soot and footprints spelling his own failure, but he'd be nothing without it. In the middle of nowhere, he makes a name for himself, and that's all he needs.
What he wants, now, that is much different, and to the point that 'want' is much too plain a word to use. One can want something to eat as easily as the sun shines. One can want one thing, and need something else. But desire is a different beast entirely, want and need tangled together as lovers. Sick. Delicious. That is why the coyote's stomach rumbles. And that is why he can never know peace.
He desires the roadrunner.
How many years has it been, he wonders as he works on the newest Acme gadget, wrench between his teeth as he finger-turns a bolt into place. It's been long enough that it feels like his whole life's been spent grasping for those cerulean tail feathers. Close, and yet far. And beneath those feathers, he can only imagine...his maw drools at the prospect, saliva slicking his fur. He knows better now than to wipe it away and keeps working at the machine, squinting from the glare of the sun off shiny metal, letting the eternal growl of his stomach fuel him.
Soon, he wipes his brow, sets his tools down, and steps back to admire his work.
Acme advertised it as a teleportation device - a little more high-tech than usual, but Wile E. doubts that'll be a hindrance. If it is, then he'll just go back to the drawing board like he always does. Simple. Even if building two of them had taken up the better part of the day, it's nothing he isn't used to.
The second device is already set up and running in his cave (and directly above a boiling stew pot at that), so Wile E.flips the switch of this one and listens as it thrums to life. Within the circular doorway of the device, not much changes - no swirling portal, no smoky haze - leaving the area behind it completely visible. Just as expected. He quickly piles a plate with bird seed, with a few dried lizards as garnish, and places it behind the portal so that Road Runner will have to run through it to get to the meal.
Little does the bird know, the meal won't be his, no, it'll be Wile E.'s...after the stew is done cooking, of course.
And so, the coyote cleans up after himself - at least, this mess - and carries his toolbox behind a boulder. Still examining his work, he has half a mind to test the thing before he goes and tries it on the road runner, but he's been around long enough to know that his tests never go well. Besides, he doesn't want to end up covered in scalding hot stew until it's got Road Runner in it.
Beep beep. The sound carries along the desert wind, echoing off the red stone cliffs. Wile E. wonders if he hallucinated it just by thinking about his prey; if he didn't, he only has seconds to get out of the way. He turns around just in time to see a large cloud of dust heading down the otherwise empty road. His gut throbs painfully. He can't help but lick his chops. And then he hides, joining his toolbox, clutching his stomach and willing it to quiet down for just long enough. It's pointless, though, as the thunderous footsteps head towards the teleportation device, drawn nearer by the promise of food. Wile E. chews on the nubs of his claws, waiting, waiting, waiting, desire rearing its ugly head...
Silence.
He remains still, unsure if Road Runner stopped as he often did or if he ran through the portal. But when the silence stretches into minutes, that's when he realizes it must have worked. He stands, slow and careful just in case, and his stomach howls at him to hurry up and eat as he stares, wide-eyed, at the empty road in front of him. The plate of seed remains untouched. He actually did it.
As much as he wants to revel in his glory, though, he knows that it would be just as easy for something to go wrong now. So he grabs his tool box and trips over his feet back to the cave, heart pounding so hard in his chest he feels his ribcage can no longer contain it. He lands chin first on the rock floor when he makes it home, teeth knocking together, but scrabbles back up anyway until he makes it to the pot. He can taste it already, the roadrunner's succulent flesh on his tongue, the tender, easy way it would tear between teeth and claws...but the pot is empty.
His heart sinks. How could his plan have possibly failed, if the seed was uneaten and Road Runner had disappeared? He looks around the space, behind towering piles of unopened Acme delivery boxes and merchandise, and finds absolutely no trace of the bird. So he turns his attention back to the portal above the pot. He crouches beneath it, static electricity bristling his fur as he does, and reaches inside. His hand disappears through it, and he feels the blazing heat of the desert. With that, he stands up, and has to squint as the sun greets his eyes. There's the plate, there's the boulder, and- the cuckoo smacks right into him, beak curled in its usual smile as they're both knocked into the cave.
Wile E. growls. Figures that Road Runner caught onto the device, but he's surprised he's going so far as to play with it. He scrambles back to his feet as the bird zooms back into the portal and jumps after him, claws outstretched, only managing to pluck one feather before he disappears again. And if that isn't bad enough, he then lands in the desert with a mouthful of sand. Thumping his chest, he coughs and spits it out, then follows Road Runner back through the next time he loops back. As they continue to go back and forth, he feels himself start to get dizzy, his head spinning from the momentum, but he can't stop, not when he's so close and that tail continues to wave like a matador's muleta, taunting him. Desiring him to chase it just as much as he does.
But that's the problem with that ugly thing called desire. When unchecked, it becomes destructive, and it's because of his desire that Wile E. doesn't notice the machine beginning to overheat, nor does he notice the red lights filling his cave as the pair takes another lap through it. But the Road Runner does, and he screeches to a stop just before he runs back through. For a moment, the smile falls from his face, but Wile E. can't see it from behind him. He pounces, yellow eyes narrowed. As he slams into his prey, arms encircling him, he feels Road Runner's heart racing inside his chest. Claws dig into soft feathers, clutching him impossibly close...
Until an explosion knocks him out cold.