02-04-2021, 08:00:57 AM
A deer this big was food for her whole barrack, maybe even everyone in River Bend. Cathy dragged the carcass into town on a handcart, gun slung over her shoulder. It put her at risk in case a wolf decided to get too friendly with her, but wolves almost never came this close into town except, of course, for that one time. But River Bend was larger now than it was back in those days, when Cathy was just a scared grad student visiting her friend's hometown when the power went out.
Cathy dropped the cart to adjust her beanie -- no, it was a toque here -- and pull her gloves up over her sleeves. She made the mistake of wearing a shirt that was a bit too short on her, and that sliver of skin exposed to the freezing Canadian air felt like a hot knife cutting into her flesh. Soon, at least, she'd be back in the butcher's shed with a wood-burning stove roaring away as she processed her newest kill. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could even scurry some away to dry into jerky for longer hunts deeper into the wilderness. She'd heard tales of bears and moose down river, and if she managed to bag one or two of them, no one would have to worry about food for weeks.
When she got to the shed, Cathy was surprised that the fire was already burning. Someone must be in there. She edged the gun off her shoulder, setting it across the pushcart in case it was a stranger. Instead, she saw a familiar face.
Is it just me, or is it colder than usual? I'll have to ask Old Man Lafevre if he thinks a storm's brewing.
Cathy dropped the cart to adjust her beanie -- no, it was a toque here -- and pull her gloves up over her sleeves. She made the mistake of wearing a shirt that was a bit too short on her, and that sliver of skin exposed to the freezing Canadian air felt like a hot knife cutting into her flesh. Soon, at least, she'd be back in the butcher's shed with a wood-burning stove roaring away as she processed her newest kill. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could even scurry some away to dry into jerky for longer hunts deeper into the wilderness. She'd heard tales of bears and moose down river, and if she managed to bag one or two of them, no one would have to worry about food for weeks.
When she got to the shed, Cathy was surprised that the fire was already burning. Someone must be in there. She edged the gun off her shoulder, setting it across the pushcart in case it was a stranger. Instead, she saw a familiar face.
Is it just me, or is it colder than usual? I'll have to ask Old Man Lafevre if he thinks a storm's brewing.