As he reached the sheltered avenue Jacob paused, shifting the fishing rod resting upon his shoulder with a pleased smile.
The old mill was in sight, the end was near, it was time to relax.
All morning he’d worked tirelessly, this moment prominent in his mind and he hoped nothing ruined it.
With a sigh he took a step forward, only to freeze at a rustling from the bushes. His nose twitched, his muscles tensed, he cursed.
As a deer leapt out, he instinctively cast the fishing rod aside and dropped to all fours.
A wolf’s work was never done.