Kintla Flatlands The fall of the dream machine

Koontz nodded sagely at Hamied's observation. "Right," she agreed, "I actually smelled it before I smelled you but I bypassed it because I knew I couldn't take it alone. It will still be a challenge between the two of us but we stand a good chance, I think," she said, eyeing the raccoon in the distance.

If the smaller creature had seen, smelled or heard them, it made no indication. Perhaps it was fearless. Koontz distinctly recalled Mo telling her a few stories about plucky raccoons. It rambled back and forth across the plain, pausing every now and then to paw at the ground and then examine something or other with its crafty little forepaws.

"That's not a bad plan," Koontz said. She chewed her tongue for a moment, then said, "What if we elaborated on it? What if one of us ran right up to it and distracted it, while the other ran up from the other side and attacked it while its back was turned?"

Her ears pressed forward and she peered at Hamied's face, wondering what he thought of this idea and hoping he didn't feel badly that she hadn't simply gone with his. She was just trying to become half the hunter her mother was. And her efforts started right here, right now.