Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
My dad met me by the car as I parked.
“You okay?” he asked.
I nodded.
This wasn’t the first time I’d been attacked by an animal.
Hell, it wasn’t even the tenth.
It wouldn’t be the last, either.
That’s what happened when you lived in an animal rehab facility.
Animals were unpredictable. Animalistic beings acting on what was in their nature, and if that was attack, then that’s what they did.
I just hadn’t been expecting to be attacked in the middle of town after getting donuts…
“I’m fine,” I sighed. “I feel worse for Wendy. She was terrified. Clinging to me and not understanding what I needed to do. Luckily, all her teachings here worked out well, and she listened immediately, took off to safety. The doctor that I’ve been telling you about was in town eating at Hopps. He was able to get her inside before he came to help.”
“Jan from your mom’s sewing circle sent her a video,” he said. “It’s shaky at best, but you can see what happened. You’re lucky that man knew what to do.”
I knew that.
I also knew that my mother was going to grill me on situational awareness again when I got home.
She was always drilling that into me.
Again, you had to when you worked with wild animals.
Not to mention, wild animals in containment facilities drew other wild animals not in containment facilities. It wasn’t abnormal to go outside and see wolves in the front yard investigating. Or elk.
Or bears.
Hell, even other raptors came to check out the area.
“I know.” I sighed. “Do you think you can pick up Wendy from school? I’m getting a later start than I intended. And I have to get some photos taken, or I’ll be late on my project.”
I contracted for a natural wildlife magazine that expected new photos every month from the region I was in. Usually, I had them turned in by this time of the month.
“Of course,” he said. “Be careful. Make sure you turn on your GPS locator, too.”
I nodded.
My mom and dad took hiking very seriously.
They’d taught me to always be cautious and always have a line to the “outside world.”
My mom had been stuck on the side of a mountain for a week before Dad had found her.
She’d gone out on a solo hike, bound and determined to “live off the land.” Though she hadn’t meant to live off the land quite like she had been forced to. A storm had surged in, forcing her to take shelter. That shelter had then swept away her bag, her phone, and anything else she could’ve used to help guide her home. Forcibly making her stay still until rescue had arrived in the form of my papa bear dad pissed off that his mama bear had been missing.
From then on, they’d been super cautious and always prepared.
It was easier to agree than argue.
Plus, I had a kid to think about.
I knew that my parents would take care of her if I wasn’t here, but still, it was better to be safe than sorry.
A short, sharp whistle and Possum flew to me from wherever he happened to have been .
He landed on my arm, and I smiled when he eyed me with his bright, raptor eyes.
“You want to go on an adventure?”
“Be careful,” Dad ordered for a second time.
I gave him a thumbs-up, got Possum’s curtain rod set up in my cargo area, and headed to the trailhead I would be taking for the day.
After sending several messages on where I’d started to my parents, I set Possum free and started my hike, breathing easy for the first time in a couple of hours.
There was nothing better than spending time in nature.
Alabama was nice and all, but we didn’t have views.
There were a bunch of trees, some hills, and that was about it.
Here there were mountains, and hills, rocks and…snow.
Dammit.
I forgot about the snow.
I turned around to see how far I was away from the trailhead entrance and grimaced.
I was a good half a mile…
I turned around and went for my jacket.
Possum gave a mournful cry that he had to turn around, and I just smiled.
When I got back to the car, I grabbed my jacket and threw it on.
Possum landed on a nearby tree, and I resituated my camera and headed back out to the trailhead.
Possum took off with a flap of wings and wind, giving a shrill cry before disappearing above me.
I walked with my eyes peeled, my bear spray in easy reach thanks to a couple of hikers I’d met early on in my move here. They’d told me all about the rabid bear attack that a woman had been through, and it’d worried me enough that I kept the spray in easy reach now.
Not that it hadn’t been within easy reach before, but now it was right by my hand just in case.