“What’s a wolf-bear?”
“A demonstration of m-my inability to d-distinguish animal noises.”
“Zoey.”At the tone of his voice, I glance up at Warner, noting that he seems to be battling amusement and frustration.“Normally, I would find your roundabout answers adorable.But right now, you need to beveryclear.Why were you up in that tree?”
“That’s as clear as I can b-be!I heard something growling.It m-might have been a bear.It might have been a w-wolf.I didn’t want to hang around to find out.So, I climbed the t-tree.”
“You think it could’ve been a wolf?Did you see any of it?Do you know what color it was?”
Color?
“If I s-saw it, I wouldn’t be referring to it as a wolf-bear, would I?”
He nods, but his attention isn’t focused on me like it was a moment ago.Right now, he’s more concerned with scanning the trees, as if my animal stalker might still be lurking in the shadows, even now.
I really hope not.
Despite the warmth of him, another shiver quakes through my body, approaching a ten on the Richter scale.The rattling is enough to regain Warner’s attention.
“Let’s get you home and warm.”
No argument here.
He shelters me under his arm, and we dive back into the underbrush.
Time drags on longer with rain pouring down, every footstep a squelching mess.The cold numbs all the edges of me.My fingers, the tip of my nose, the tops of my cheeks, and my toes.
Hell in a handbasket, mytoes.They ache terribly before all sensation disappears.
This is how trench foot starts.
When we break through another cluster of trees, Grandma Minnie’s cabin finally comes into view.A few tears might leak out at the sight, but there’s no way Warner will notice with my face already drenched with rain.
Once we’re on the porch, the overhang blocks most of the rain.
“Do you see B-Bruce?”
My big, dopey dog isn’t waiting by the back door like I hoped, and as I stare out into the yard, I can barely make out anything as sheets of rain tear down.
“Is that why you were out there?”Warner’s arms come back around my shoulders, guiding me toward the door.
“Y-you don’t think the w-wolf-bear g-got him?D-do you?”My chattering teeth are back and won’t let me get out a full sentence without stumbling over my words.But I don’t care.
No matter how cold I am, Bruce will be equally bad, still stuck in the storm.I pull away from Warner’s arms, needing to make another round of the yard.
Did I check under the car?
“Damn it, Zoey.Bruce is inside the house.”Warner wraps his warm hands around my chilled ones.
How is he not morphing into an icicle like me?His clothes are just as soaked as mine.
“W-what?”
“Come inside.Bruce is inside.”
Despite not fully believing him, I still allow myself to be led out of the cold, wet evening into the warm cabin.But even as the door shuts behind us, I don’t see my dog.
“H-he’s not?—”
