Triskele_Lynx
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jul 16, 2020
- Messages
- 49
- Points
- 58
This is an opening scene that came to mind, but I suppose it would be a romance, and I have no qualifications to write such a thing. So, I figured I'd toss it out there and see if anyone will pick it up.
I hit the wrong button and sent this. It's a work in progress, so come back for more.
----
April, 2000. Upper Peninsula, Michigan.
Through the scope on his gun, Griff watched the wolf approach through the woods. He didn't recognize her as a member of the local pack. She was a prime specimen, large for a female, with lush dark fur. A location collar was on her neck. It was an old one, worn and much bulkier than recent models.
Griff thought the battery was almost certainly dead, but if he could track it back to whoever put it on her, they'd appreciate it.
As she paused at the edge of the clearing, Griff drew on his Marine Corps training, checked his sight picture, let out his breath and squeezed, not pulled, the trigger. The gun coughed, and the dart appeared on her shoulder.
The wolf looked down at the dart, looked directly at Griff in his blind, shook her head as if in disbelief, lay down with hey chin on her forelegs, and waited for the dart to steal her consciousness.
Griff lifted the wolf's limp body and carried her to his truck. He managed to get the tailgate down without dropping her, and laid her down on the bed. He recovered his dart gun and other items from the blind, got in his truck and drive back to his cabin.
Morgan woke up in a large dog crate. Across the room, the man that darted her was sitting at a table with his back to her. He was fiddling with her collar, connecting a data lead and a battery cable to it.
They were in a rustic room, with a wood stove on the far wall, a kitchenette in the corner. A couple of chairs and a bookshelf filled out the room. Three doors led out. One was an exterior door. She assumed that others went to a bedroom and bathroom.
She shifted into her human form, carefully eased the latch open and left the crate. As she walked up behind the man,
I hit the wrong button and sent this. It's a work in progress, so come back for more.
----
April, 2000. Upper Peninsula, Michigan.
Through the scope on his gun, Griff watched the wolf approach through the woods. He didn't recognize her as a member of the local pack. She was a prime specimen, large for a female, with lush dark fur. A location collar was on her neck. It was an old one, worn and much bulkier than recent models.
Griff thought the battery was almost certainly dead, but if he could track it back to whoever put it on her, they'd appreciate it.
As she paused at the edge of the clearing, Griff drew on his Marine Corps training, checked his sight picture, let out his breath and squeezed, not pulled, the trigger. The gun coughed, and the dart appeared on her shoulder.
The wolf looked down at the dart, looked directly at Griff in his blind, shook her head as if in disbelief, lay down with hey chin on her forelegs, and waited for the dart to steal her consciousness.
Griff lifted the wolf's limp body and carried her to his truck. He managed to get the tailgate down without dropping her, and laid her down on the bed. He recovered his dart gun and other items from the blind, got in his truck and drive back to his cabin.
Morgan woke up in a large dog crate. Across the room, the man that darted her was sitting at a table with his back to her. He was fiddling with her collar, connecting a data lead and a battery cable to it.
They were in a rustic room, with a wood stove on the far wall, a kitchenette in the corner. A couple of chairs and a bookshelf filled out the room. Three doors led out. One was an exterior door. She assumed that others went to a bedroom and bathroom.
She shifted into her human form, carefully eased the latch open and left the crate. As she walked up behind the man,
