(It's) Always There - Ch. 14

The fox prodded, unreserved, "How long are you gonna mope for."

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...

By the hooves Hane took up nearly three hundred pounds onto his shoulder, odd and greater force put into half his gait to maintain speed and form on return across the grass, what distance he just sprinted in moments leaving him open for unideally-more seconds... but the other strips of forest weren't used against him. He withdrew deeper into the natural camouflage, and slowed to a walk.

Focus was kept on either side of their pocket of trees, cover fine-enough down the middle but his silhouette not helped by a giant boar held high. Under immense pressure on one side, the German Shepherd regauged his nine-minute trip back to camp, and reaffirmed he'd get there easily. And with the estimates of pace and terrain on the mind, Hane, as well, measured again how further travel would go.

Going well below Dallas and decently above Waco did force more cautious pathing and watching, neither helped by the limited options they had for proper ways to travel without being seen, those "lanes" of tall foliage certain to thin and eventually disappear. These large and more medium cities wouldn't be near for longer than a few days total, however, so the cover problem should worsen somewhat slower than prominent civilization goes away. On a related note, how the ground itself stayed dry and stable - to improve though insignificantly, at this point in Texas - was also going to be an issue. It was nearly summer, meaning once they didn't have consistent shade anymore, they'd have to cover all their exposed fur and tolerate blistering midday heat regardless.

Whether the others wanted to or not, they'd make them walk as fast as before, because he knew they could and should. It had been hot for a long time, not unbearably the last over two weeks in this state, and not so the final one an-

Hane scanned fully around, and up...

A bird chirped. He kept walking.

...

The right whistle came to Hane without effort, and Case, even so far off from him, eased in the daylight.

By the camp's center he laid the boar on its blood-covered rag. He rounded the shoulder it had rested on to loosen it, used and griping joints readied again once the gloves were on. A tarp was put beneath to catch the blood, and a proper knife for the job pierced its ribcage, carving a gap large enough to sever its organs without mussing his forearms. Results proved its insides matched the health of its outside. They could eat it, he just had to start a fire, skin it, behead it, dig a hole, and dry it right. It was unfortunate to waste as much as they would, but it appeared first, and it worked.

... Navy leaned in from his peripheral vision. It wasn't clear how long she'd been angling to talk, but she did at his recognition.

"... Uh... I wanted to know what happens when we get to Ballinger." She looked unsure - maybe concerned, even though it was just a question.

"I don't know." He couldn't, so that was the answer she got.

Hane set aside the pig's innards, realizing his shot nicked the heart. So it died slow.