I gave her the fish, removing my hand from her to let her eat in peace, but she didn’t seem to mind my presence at all while eating her breakfast. I shifted the bowl closer to her and sat back on my haunches, watching her devour the fish.
“We’ll bring your puppies with us too,” I assured her. “Only you’ll need to show me where they are. Maybe we could take them to the cabin now? It’d be safer and warmer there for them. I could look after them for you while you’re out hunting.”
I kept chatting not because I thought the dog understood me but because I wanted her to get used to the sound of my voice.
She finished most of the fish, then took the last one in her mouth, turning away.
“Leaving already?” I asked with disappointment.
Holding the fish between her teeth, the dog stopped at the edge of the tall grass and looked back at me.
My heart leaped with hope.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
I walked after her. Instead of jumping into the creek as she normally did when leaving, the dog ran along the bank, looking back at me every now and then, as if making sure I followed her.
“You’re such a smart dog aren't you?” I praised, trying to keep up with her pace. “You know I’m better at walking than swimming, don’t you? Are you taking me to see your babies? Because I’d love to meet them very much.”
I followed her around the bend of the creek when she suddenly stopped and lifted her head, sniffing the air.
“What is it, girl?”
She dropped the fish and growled. This time, it was a loud, threatening sound that sent a spear of alarm through me.
I grabbed the bow from my shoulder and reached for an arrow in the quiver on my back, looking around in search of any danger.
A twig crunched, and I spun around.
A massive wild boar was digging under the roots of a nearby oak tree. Its brown-and-orange hide blended well into the autumn forest. But the bright yellow bristle ridge on the back of its neck was easy enough to spot through the underbrush.
“Let’s get out of here,” I whispered to the water dog, taking slow, careful steps along the creek bank.
The boar raised its head. His beady eyes found me. With a loud snort, he lunged into an attack.
“Ah!” Air rushed from me in a gush.
Only a few weeks ago, I’d be frantically looking for a tree to climb to save my hide. But that was weeks ago. Now, I widened my stance, dug my heels into the moss, nocked my arrow, andpulled the string, taking aim. I couldn’t possibly miss from the distance this short. But one arrow wouldn’t fell a boar.
I released it quickly. It hit the animal in its shoulder while I already nocked another arrow, then released it too before jumping out of his path.
With a growl, my water dog leaped onto the boar’s back, sinking her teeth into his neck. He stooped, snorting, and I shot the third arrow, right into the boar’s eye. He crashed onto his side, his hooves digging deep grooves in the moss.
“Yay!” I shouted triumphantly, raising my bow over my head. “We did it, honey!”
The dog suddenly leaped away from the boar and jumped into the creek, leaving me and even her dropped fish behind.
“Where are you going?” I turned after her.
The boar had been defeated. The danger was gone. Why did she leave? Did I scream too loud, scaring her?
An arrow suddenly embedded into the dead boar’s side with a thud. It was not one of my arrows made from plain wood and goose feather fletching. This one was black with fancy purple turkey feathers.
Dread seized my limbs as I slowly turned around.
“Reizon.” The name fell from my lips like a lead weight.
He grinned at me, stepping from around a tree trunk and lowering his bow. “I’m thrilled to find you alive, my princess, and honored to save you from the beast.”
