Emily’s perspective:

Grant’s scent ends here. Where is he? A tick in the woods beside me. What’s that? I turn and see nothing. Breathing from the other side. I try to catch a scent. A shrill noise from behind me. I can’t catch a glimpse. Fast. It’s fast. I hope Grant’s close.

“What the h*ll!”

…grass…trees…sky…dirt…teeth…fur…eyes… I’m rolling end over end, under attack. Terrance? I slash and bite, trying to fight off ...