Blackfoot Forest There's an art in life's distractions

While she waited in the thicket, Javelina took the time to closely inspect her wound. It still looked raw, though there was a lot of fresh scabbing. The scabs itched—she resisted the urge to pick at them—and her leg was stiff but it didn’t hurt as much. She took these as good signs. It meant she was healing.

She pricked her ears and raised her head when she heard Glaukos’s footsteps returning, his heavy plod by now familiar. He wanted to know what she thought of the place. Javelina peered around at what little she could see of the forest and shrugged a shoulder, offering up a small smile from where she lay curled on the ground.

I wasn’t expecting to be alive today, so I can’t complain, she told him. What’s that smell, though? she questioned, leaning on him slightly as she carefully pulled herself onto all fours.