I squint through heavy eyelids, gazing for the first time at an ocean. I take in the white-crested waves, the epic blue.This is no time to lose myself in wonder — frantic hoofbeats close in from the nearby jungle. Groggy, I can’t begin to defend myself against whatever it might be. Alone on the beach, I’ve got nowhere to hide. If I choose the sea, will it dive in after me?I force myself to stand, shaky, as a feral hog bursts around an immense fern and onto the pale sand. It’s no Wilbur, and at over two hundred pounds of muscle, it’s barreling my way. I take an uncertain step, and, trying to project predator, plant my legs more firmly. It’s no use. I tumble, expecting to be gored.Then an immense bear — no, a werebear — roars out of the greenbelt, giving chase. The hog gallops by. I don’t matter. I’m not the thing that’s trying to kill it right now.Seconds later, the Bear overtakes the grunting hog with enormous claws. Sand sprays up, and a cracking sound rises from the swine’s thick neck.
