“Easy!” Owen snapped back instinctively, raising both hands. “I’m not trying to hurt you.” The animal’s growl faded into a tremor, chest still heaving. Its front paws pressed deeper into the slope, as if anchoring itself. Whatever was beneath it wasn’t letting go, and the dog wasn’t letting him interfere.
Owen sighed, shoulders sinking. “Alright, fine,” he muttered. “Have it your way.” He stood, brushing mud from his knees, scanning the road for anyone else; maybe someone who’d know what to do. The world was empty except for the faint hiss of water trickling through the ditch. Then he heard voices. “Is that you, Owen?”