BrayWatch: This has taken an unexpected turn.
TWGiles: Taking screenshots.
I bare my teeth at the monitor.
BigFootBoone [admin]: Log off or I’m throttling your bandwidth for a week.
MothAkai rejoined.
MothAkai: Wow, touchy.
MothAkai: Is this about the researcher?
MothAkai: Does he know you log into the forums and defend “not all humans” now?
BigFootBoone [admin]: I hate you.
MothAkai: Love you too, big guy. Got to go.
MothAkai has left #us-cryptid-ops.
“You’re all banned,” I mutter at the screen.
A soft crunch of footsteps outside the cave makes my Nature Sense ping an instant before the actual scent reaches me.
Elias.
The defensive tension in my shoulders drops away so fast I almost get whiplash.
I close the laptop, stand, and stretch, rolling my shoulders back. By the time I step into the early light at the cave mouth, he’s just coming up the path.
He’s in his usual field clothes—worn hiking pants, sturdy boots, a layered shirt and fleece, a jacket tied around his waist. His curls are doing that rebellious, out-of-control thing that makes my fingers itch to touch them. His backpack straps bite into his shoulders, pulling his shirt tight enough over his chest that I have to deliberately look away.
“Morning,” he calls, smile bright enough to rival the sun. “Did I interrupt world domination planning?”
“Worse,” I say. “Mothman.”
He makes a sympathetic face. “Yikes. Do I need to offer condolences?”
“You need to offer earplugs,” I grumble.
He huffs a laugh and hikes the pack higher. “Ready?”
“For what?” I ask, though I already know.
His eyes light up with that particular research-goblin gleam that I’ve come to recognize.
“Transect day,” he says. “The north ridgeline. I want to check the camera traps and do some sample plots for ground cover. You said you’d show me that old game trail that bypasses the worst of the mud.”
Right. I did say that.
“Fine,” I say. “But if you fall in anything, I’m leaving you there as enrichment for the local foxes.”
“You always say that,” he replies breezily, falling into step beside me as I turn toward the forest. “And then you save me.”
“I save the foxes from indigestion,” I correct.
He nudges me gently with his elbow, like he knows I’m lying and is calling me on it without using words.
