Kalin wasn’t sure why, but he liked that about her. Nothing special, no extra abilities, surely not someone he could take back to camp. Yet, she fought death like an animal. Yet in the end, she’d taken her last breath. Even her God wouldn’t save her, further proof of the damnation of this silly, easy prey. The thick trees had provided canopy from the bright moon in the quiet forest, with no life shuffling around. Nothing in the wild was as deadly as him. He wondered when the sport would become exciting again. When the thrill would return. Possibly not for decades, when he finally met her. Janie. So far away, yet a blink of an eye to his people. The fall Minnesota nights had cooled to a comfortable temperature. He buried the shovel with his latest prey, kicking the remaining foot of dirt around. Rolling his neck, he surveyed the area, making sure he’d cleaned up. Then, with a glance at the waning moon, he began to jog for home, his thoughts on his future mate. He’d tried repeatedly to enter Janie’s dreams but bounced against something strong each time; somebody else was there, somebody who probably didn’t even know they blocked him.
