I sniffed out traces of Laurel’s scent on the path—he must have walked this way not long ago. I didn’t want to go after him and freak him out, so I left the trail and went higher up in the forest. I’d keep my distance, and if I saw something weird, I’d investigate.
After a while, I noticed a flash of red among the trees below. A backpack? It was moving.
I ran a little closer, and there he was. A thin figure stood on the path, bent over, staring at his phone. Laurel must have paused to check the map or something. He nodded to himself, dropped the phone back into his pocket, and resumed walking. He looked around, lifting his face, and his chest expanded with a deep breath.
He seemed fine.
Deciding to catch up with him later, I turned right and took a shortcut up to a viewpoint below Goat’s Horn. As the tallest mountain in the range, it rose high above the tree line, and on a clear day, you could see all the way to Green Peaks. Normally, I’d go up to the summit, but I didn’t have much time left if I wanted to check on Laurel before heading home to put on some clothes and go to work.
A rain shower came and went, but nothing too bad. I shook off the water, my fur barely damp. A few minutes later, weak sunlight made it through a crack in the clouds, and I paused at the viewpoint.
I loved fall the most. The maples and birches below still had some of their leaves, deep red and bright yellow, like confetti among the dark green of the pines and firs. The air smelled fresh after the rain, and thin wisps of mist rose from the grooves in the valley, like smoke signals.
Beauville sat below, its squat cabins huddled together, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy for those who had been born and raised here. I was a guest, a newcomer, and even thoughI’d received the warmest welcome, if the good folks of Beauville knew about my past, they wouldn’t be as gracious.
Monty knew, but that was different. He didn’t have a judgmental bone in his body, and I’d been lucky to find a friend in him.
Hopefully, my luck would hold because this forgotten corner of the world was starting to feel like home. I never wanted to leave here.
The run stretched my muscles and woke me up. When I was descending the slope, hopping down boulders and jumping over branches, I was looking forward to opening the pub. It would be a slow day, but I liked those—it gave me time to chat with people.
I was headed toward the part of the trail close to Laurel’s own property, guessing he couldn’t have gotten much further unless he ran, when a blast of human scent made me pause.
Up here?
The trail was at least half a mile down below.
I sniffed and looked around. It must be Laurel. It smelled like him with a hint of chocolate. He was having a snack. But what had he been thinking, walking off the marked trail?
I followed the scent toward a small clearing. Laurel sat there, perched on top of a boulder, using a folded fleece jacket to protect his butt from the cold, damp stone. He drank from a thermos, and in his left hand, he held a half-eaten chocolate bar.
For fuck’s sake. This wasn’t a city park!
I marched into the clearing with an annoyed growl. He was about to get an earful.
Laurel took one look at me and slid off the boulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Shit!” he yelped.
Crawling backward, he fumbled for his belt. Bear spray.
Oh hell.
He didn’t recognize me. Of course, he didn’t. I’d just told Monty myself he wouldn’t.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mumbled, pointing the can at me with a shaking hand.
Don’t aim at my face!
Dammit. If I were an actual bear, he would have used the spray all wrong anyway.
You’re supposed to aim low to make a cloud between you and the bear.
Shaking my head, I sat on my butt and lifted my front paws in an appeasing gesture, doing my best impersonation of a circus animal. I felt like a loon.Don’t shoot, little human. I’m your friend.
I could shift, but I wasn’t keen on flashing Laurel. He’d already seen me sucking Monty’s dick, so maybe he wouldn’t mind all that much. But it was cold and wet, and we were in the middle of a wild forest. All my instincts screamed at me to stay in fur and keep my claws ready. I wasn’t shifting unless I had to.
Laurel stared, spray can still high up, but he didn’t release it.
