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Weekly Contest #41
The path had been dark and tangled for long enough that I was beginning to question whether I was on a path at all. My legs were sore and scratched and flecked with dirt up my ankles from the squelch, squelch, of plodding through what seemed like a lifetime of late autumn night. My fur bristled, as if the anger I felt at my own ineptitude could somehow cow lady Nature herself, so just this once she, not I, would press her ears back and show me mercy. The scent of rain, warm and summery by nature, had been a lure drawing me forward step by st...
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