Part 5 (2/2)

More sounds reached her ears. Something was definitely trying to get closer to the shelter.

She had to move fast.

Annja let her feet carry her into the higher branches of the tree. She still had her knife on her belt. And she had her sword. But she'd left her pack down at the base of the tree.

The branches below her yawned and then snapped back.

Annja kept climbing.

Was that a snarl?

Her pulse quickened. Wild packs of dogs sometimes roamed through the woods. And they would gladly tear a lone female apart without hesitation.

She knew she was far better to be off the ground. She reached for the next series of branches and pulled herself into a seated position about twenty feet up before pausing to catch her breath.

Below her, a series of snaps made her look. Something was destroying her camp. She could just make out the black shape moving back and forth. But it wasn't unrestrained carnage. More like calculated destruction.

Whatever it was seemed to be searching for something.

She could easily jump down and attack them, but what would be the point? She was safe, and the idea of facing an unknown adversary didn't sit well with her. She frowned and climbed even higher.

Annja's foot slipped. And the branch supporting her cracked.

She gulped as her stomach spasmed.

The branch gave way.

Annja fell toward the unseen danger.

Chapter 4.

As Annja plummeted through the branches, time seemed to slow down long enough for her to feel every poke, prod and stab from the mighty tree's limbs. She kept her eyes closed and prayed that her body would relax enough to somehow survive the fall. As she waited for the inevitable thump, she kept her eyes firmly locked on the sword. If, as she suspected, something nasty was waiting down there for her, she'd need it as soon as she landed.

If she could move.

But instead of a hard impact and broken bones for her trouble, as Annja's body hit the ground she tucked and turned into a roll. She exhaled hard, rolling several feet before coming to her feet.

Underneath the canopy, something still lurked.

And now she heard a distinct growl.

Last I checked, the legend of big foot didn't include any growling. Howling maybe, but growling? No way.

Annja closed her eyes and summoned the sword. In the darkness, its blade glowed a dull silver.

A gust of wind nearly knocked her off her feet but she bent her knees and kept her balance. What was rustling through her backpack? A bear? Was it late enough for a bear to come out of its hibernation? Annja wondered if the bears around these parts were grizzlies and then decided that pretty much any animal would be dangerous.

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