Joanna Killfeather loved to hike. The trails that cut through these forested mountains held surprises at every turn. Her grandfather used to tell her stories of spirits that lived in these places. Somewhere between man and beast, these spirits were mischievous and could either help a lost traveller or be their doom. Those stories were the last thing on her mind when a big black bear lumbered through the underbrush and swung his head in her direction.
Sherman didn't feel like sharing the trail with anyone that day. Sure, he was startled by this woman, and more than a little embarrassed that she got the drop on him. His sense of smell was better than a bloodhound's, for crying out loud! So he gave a little grunt, sure to send the jogger on her way with a story to tell her friends. But she didn't run. How curious...
Sherman didn't feel like sharing the trail with anyone that day. Sure, he was startled by this woman, and more than a little embarrassed that she got the drop on him. His sense of smell was better than a bloodhound's, for crying out loud! So he gave a little grunt, sure to send the jogger on her way with a story to tell her friends. But she didn't run. How curious...