Tag: cougars

Ghost had started pacing the gate, nose to the wire, whining soft. Rey answered with a huff, ears forward. Doh sat back, gray eyes steady. Shadow rose, long black fur rippling, and nosed the yearling through the fence, a rough lick that said, ‘Welcome, pup’.

Shorty heard it from the porch, long gray hair loose under his cap, beard stirring in the breeze. Slammer pressed against his leg, black-and-tan coat warm, amber eyes fixed on the darkness. Millie appeared at his side without a word, tiny in her pigtails and flannel pajamas, hand slipping into his scarred palm.

Shadow took three silent steps forward and sat. Mere feet away. Close enough that Jess could see the pale scar across his muzzle, the flecks of gold in his yellow eyes.

Fiction – That night they opened the inner gate of the wolf run—the one that led to the five-acre acclimation pen no one had used since Rey’s first litter. They left it cracked six inches, chained so it couldn’t swing wide. Then they waited.

Roland Chapmann arrived on snowshoes, lanky frame crunching through drifts, wire-rimmed glasses fogged. Always ready to lend his expertise to any silence, he offered this. “Avalanche aftermaths are perfect for teaching baby animals how to forage after the land reshapes itself. Lots of underground life, roots and tubers too will have been exposed.”

Roland Chapmann arrived on snowshoes, lanky frame crunching through drifts, wire-rimmed glasses fogged. Always ready to lend his expertise to any silence, he offered this. “Avalanche aftermaths are perfect for teaching baby animals how to forage after the land reshapes itself. Lots of underground life, roots and tubers too will have been exposed.”

Roland Chapmann arrived on snowshoes, lanky frame crunching through drifts, wire-rimmed glasses fogged. Always ready to lend his expertise to any silence, he offered this. “Avalanche aftermaths are perfect for teaching baby animals how to forage after the land reshapes itself. Lots of underground life, roots and tubers too will have been exposed.”

Outside, the world blurred into a swirling void, snowdrifts piling against the windows like insistent intruders. Slammer paced near the door, his black-and-tan coat dusted with flakes from a brief foray earlier, amber eyes flicking toward the enclosures where the animals endured in their own ways.

This was the wilds in their introspective phase, where summer’s exuberance gave way to winter’s stark beauty and hidden perils—avalanches lurking on slopes, wildlife hunkering in dens, and the ever-present test of endurance for those who called these heights home.

The Jeep’s rumble announced her arrival, dust kicking up along the access trail. Lari stepped out, her shoulder-length brunette hair framing a face with high cheekbones and piercing green eyes that held a mix of wariness and wonder.