Her wolf posture indicated she was ready to bolt, and the men’s bodies steeled with tension as they shouted to one another, “Don’t miss her this time, damn it!” “Hell, I’m not a fisherman, North!” “Yeah,” another man said. “If we fish, it’s with our teeth!” Her red fur bristling and fluffed out to the max, Carol appeared larger and more threatening, yet she had the sense to skitter out of the way of the net. But she wouldn’t go into the water where she could have easily escaped capture. Seeing this, the men kept her corralled with her back against the stream. As soon as the net landed on the ground, missing her, the men scurried to retrieve it, while watching her to make sure she didn’t attack. Why didn’t she just jump into the water and swim away? At least none of them seemed inclined to shoot her. Ryan kept running toward them. Concentrating hard on Carol, not one of the men realized the threat swiftly approaching at their backs. Ryan could have growled to warn them before he attacked.
