BONUS CLIVE CHAPTER
Alternative POV
The noises near Quiet Beard’s house piqued my curiosity. I was supposed to be foraging for ferns for Marsh Queen. She was carrying another calf and had grown increasingly particular about food. Suddenly, the perfectly acceptable reeds from the marsh didn’t meet her standards.
So I took it upon myself to search for better sustenance for my woman and my calf. That search brought me to this side of the mountain more than usual.
Little Fern had grown more. And now possessed many opinions.
Which she assured me were all correct. And she had been no help with convincing Marsh Queen that another calf would require even more planning and safety precautions.
Instead they joined forces, and Little Fern called me “unhinged.” Marsh Queen failed to correct her.
So I headed up to the little house hidden among the trees. If I were a human, I would live in a place like this. Surrounded by forest and mountains and away from the noise and the cars in town. Away from all the glowing rectangles and Pie Witch’s rage.
Quiet Beard had always moved through the forest with care.
He built fires responsibly, repaired fences, played sad songs on his stringed instrument in the yard.
He looked a lot like Carrying Beard but had a far gentler energy.
Like a rabbit in the body of a bear. And he possessed what appeared to be a tendency toward catastrophic thinking.
Understandable. The forest held untold catastrophic situations.
For years, he’d lived peacefully in his forest home with his canine. A perfect example of a good human. Tall, strong, with an excellent beard. He did seem to have subpar vision, and had his own dark eye shields, but no creature was perfect.
But then Broken Wing arrived. A small, thin female with one arm secured against her body.
She was injured, but then Healing Female came and tended to her. Now, her wing was free and she explored the forest all the time.
I’d maintained a close watch. She was a wanderer and insisted on independence despite her limited survival skills.
Sadly, I could relate to Quiet Beard’s plight.
He preferred established trails. Broken Wing headed off anywhere. And he would follow, making distressed noises.
It was a pattern I knew all too well.
In addition to her broken wing, she demonstrated a lack of fear.
Thankfully, she was generous with snacks. She had fed Little Fern delicious carrots on several occasions. Now Little Fern was always sneaking up the mountain. Marsh Queen called this unauthorized migration “socialization.” I called it a failure of containment.
I admired Broken Wing’s determination. But she regularly demonstrated the self-preservation skills of a squirrel.
Another reason to add this house to my patrol route.
Quiet Beard was unusually attentive to Broken Wing.
He monitored her constantly. Anticipated danger. Prepared for all emergencies. I was impressed. For a human, this was a very sensible approach to partnership.
Last week Quiet Beard had discovered Broken Wing attempting to leave the den unsupervised. He’d become agitated. Humans were such slow learners. I had wanted to explain the situation, bull to bull.
This was his female. How had he not realized by now that she could not be contained?
Marsh Queen had just crossed a swollen stream because she decided the blueberries on the opposite bank were superior. I had objected. She had ignored me.
I knew what it was like to love a female who viewed danger as a fun diversion.
But love required flexibility. The humans were still working on this concept.
Engines roared as I approached. Were the Beard Brothers gathering for that delicious meal Quiet Beard often made in the fire dome near his house? It was midday and the sun was bright in the sky.
The smell of gasoline wafted over me, but rather than joy like I usually picked up on when the herd was together, I smelled fear.
My heart sped up. Broken Wing? Quiet Beard?
I took off running toward the house. Honestly. I couldn’t leave these humans unsupervised for a single minute.
The unfamiliar males announced themselves before I even saw them. They were hard to miss with the way the forest vibrated beneath the loud rumbling of their vehicles.
Aggressive and unnecessary. These machines roared up the road in a cloud of exhaust and delusion.
I flattened my ears. The vehicles had only two wheels. Absurd. Impossible in snow and very easy to knock over.
The riders climbed off and stomped through Quiet Beard’s territory with alarming confidence. I looked back to the forest and signaled for Little Fern to stay put.
Predators understood boundaries. These humans did not.
One wore too much leather.
Another kicked over a flowerpot.
And several carried strange weapons. Which, given their physical stature, seemed to be an overcompensation.
They spread out around Quiet Beard’s den.
The breeze picked up, and I caught a whiff of Broken Wing.
Following the scent, I turned. She was behind the den, crouching down. The canine was with her. That was a relief. Although a lesser species, it had proven itself quite loyal.
While one male pounded on the door, another broke a window. A third paced with his weapon.
Quiet Beard was absent. His vehicle was gone.
There was no way he would allow this disrespect to his den.
My concern deepened.
Broken Wing was shaking. The bad men were looking for her.
I had to do something.
Broken Wing belonged to Quiet Beard.
Quiet Beard belonged to Carrying Beard.
Carrying Beard had saved my Little Fern.
The Beard Brothers were part of my herd now.
I snorted deeply, stretching my neck to display my intimidating rack of antlers. Then I crept out from the tree line.
I stared at Broken Wing until she lifted her head.
Her eyes widened when she saw me. I tilted my antlers toward the bad men.
She nodded. Hopefully she had the strength to run to the forest in time.
She had a glowing rectangle clutched to her chest. Good. She could call for help.
Run, I thought, staring at her.
She hesitated, still watching me, but after a moment, she took off toward the tree line.
I lowered my head.
It was showtime.
I began to run, picking up speed as I approached the side of the house.
The leather clad males remained oblivious to my attack.
Honestly, how some of these humans survived to adulthood was one of nature’s greatest mysteries.
I let out a roar as I barreled closer.
One bad man froze. Another pointed.
The third dropped his weapon and started to run.
I aimed for the vehicles, knocking them to the ground.
The men were screaming now.
I turned and blocked their view of the forest, giving Broken Wing time to get away. With a swing of my head, I hit one man with my antlers.
Hopefully he was injured and Healing Female would let him suffer.
Keeping my broad side to the men, I tilted my head. Broken Wing was disappearing into the trees close to where Little Fern was keeping watch. Good.
Now I could have some fun.
I charged at another man. He ran onto the porch and threw himself at the door to the den. It didn’t budge.
Laughing, I jumped up, my hooves crushing the wooden stairs.
Oops. Good thing Quiet Beard was good with tools. He could fix this.
Chaos erupted.
One man dove behind a decorative shrub, and I trampled his leg. Another lost one of his shoes as he attempted to dart to his vehicle, tripping and falling in the dirt, all while screaming creative obscenities.
It had been a long time since I’d allowed myself to play with the humans like this. I was a father now, after all, I’d put all my juvenile shenanigans behind me.
So I let myself have a bit more fun before looking over at Little Fern.
She gave me the signal. Broken Wing was safe.
Relief settled inside me.
And slowly, I walked back into the forest.
We collected the ferns and returned to Marsh Queen.
I’d protected the herd. It was my job. And hopefully peace could return to the forest before this new calf was born.
Because this forest belonged to all the creatures that called it home.
Marsh Queen.
Little Fern.
My new calf.
The Beard Brothers. And all the Females they’d somehow won over. Even a few human calves.
And Pie Witch.
My herd had expanded considerably.
I was exhausted.
But lucky.
I walked toward home with Little Fern bounding ahead. Somewhere in town, Pie Witch was probably baking.
Hopefully, things could finally return to normal.