By The Light Of The Moon

Chapter 20

"There you go," I told Milly, patting her neck. "Shane said the ground was smoother once we got through that rocky section, so you should be fine now."

She snorted her opinion but resumed her amble through the underbrush, trying to find a deer trail after having lost our original path while crossing a large section of pure rock and gravel. Standing in the stirrups, I finally spotted the worn track and guided Milly over to it. I hadn't seen any deer on these trails, but with Shane in the area, they probably fled the moment they noticed the werewolf.

The moon had finally risen above the trees and was shedding some light on our surroundings. It wasn't much, but I wasn't going to complain since it was only a matter of time until another massive storm rolled through. The storm season was just starting here, and we'd been lucky so far, but I was sure there were reasons most guides and travelers wouldn't enter these mountains after the first storm swept through.

A high-pitched whimper made me look sharply to my left. I spotted three fox kits peering out of a den beneath some tree roots a mere second before the vixen blasted out of the shrubs with bared teeth. Like any mother protecting her children, she ignored the odds stacked against her and launched into an offensive.

She raced toward Milly, snapping at her back legs. Milly kicked out but missed the agile fox. The vixen wasn't dissuaded and came right back. I swung my spear around, but didn't have a good angle, nor did the overprotective mother even take note of the moving stick.

When the vixen snarled and snapped at Milly's legs again, Milly decided enough was enough and jumped forward. With how I was twisted around, I dropped the spear in my desperate attempt to grab onto the saddle horn. I didn't bother reining her in since the fox was still on her heels.

Like a re-enactment of her run the other day, Milly took off down the trail as if dire wolves were after her.

Thankfully, the fox didn't follow far.

"Easy, Milly. It's gone," I said, gently pulling back on the reins, only to discover she had the bit clamped between her teeth.

She slowed down to a canter, but continued rushing along the trail. I shook my head and simply held on, waiting for the elderly mule to tire. I hadn't been able to get her to trot for more than ten minutes, so this shouldn't take long.

"Relax, Milly. It was just a fox. It's gone. You can slow down now."

She continued to ignore my steady stream of calm reassurances, apparently determined to win some sort of award for running away from canines. I tried the reins again, but she still had the bit between her teeth and was determined to remain in control. Minutes passed without her showing any signs of being ready to throw in the towel.

Even though we were crossing a lot of valuable distance, there were protruding roots and slippery rocks on this dark trail, and it wasn't worth the risk in case she hurt herself. I leaned forward in the saddle and scratched behind her ears.

My gamble paid off, and she came to a stop, glancing over her shoulder at me and the empty trail behind her. I kept scratching as she reassured herself the fox was gone.

As I sat up, I patted her shoulder. "Good girl."

With a shake of disapproval over how our night had gone so far, she plodded down the trail at her normal pace. Her heavy breathing and occasional clack of hooves on rocks were the only sounds that disturbed the silence.

I shook my head at the elderly mule, finding it ironic I couldn't get her to trot for ten minutes, but toss a fox into the equation, and she decided to pretend she was a racehorse.

It wasn't long before Shane skidded onto the path ahead of us. He stood on his hind legs with his ears perked alertly in our direction. "What happened? Where's your spear?"