Chapter 4

When the first brave blackbird began to offer up its morning hymn, Randy pushed himself away from the window. Maybe after a few hours of sleep he’d dig out a canvas. Or fire up the computer and start throwing words at it.

For real this time.

Maybe.1: October

It knew it was dreaming even though it didn’t usually carry the shape into slumber—the ground felt too springy, the grasses whisking past didn’t sting its muzzle or whip its eyes as they tended to do in reality. It gave into the sensation of running, anyway, enjoying the briskness of the wind and the luring scent of something warm and frightened. Rabbit, its mind knew, and the memory of taste and hunt spurred powerful legs into more focused movement. The little animal would be no match for it, no matter how quick or agile the rabbit could be, and the chase just made the end result more delightful.