“I’m not moving.” Libby stood in front of the den and stared into the barrel of the gun.
Neither of them saw the shadow inch slowly toward them from the west. A hawk circled above, waiting.
He squeezed the trigger just as something hit him – hard – in the shoulder.
Blood. Blood everywhere.
“Libby! Can you hear me?”
Libby scrambled over the rocks, twigs and dirt stuck to the bloody sweat oozing down her back. The cubs! She had to get to the den first.
He came down the other side of the valley, the easy way, and he sauntered along the trail just ahead of her.
She finally faced him, [Continue reading]
Angela’s attention wandered as Reed became more animated. Who cared about red wolves, anyway? They might as well be red Cadillacs, for all it mattered to her. She was a numbers person, tracking how many wolves there were over time. If they died out, so what? There would always be [Continue reading]
Fall came early to the hills: red and yellow leaves shuffled across the trail in the cool breeze. [Continue reading]