A part of it shifted again, too slow to be wind, too deliberate to be natural. Raymond’s gut tightened. He kept his distance, circling slowly, trying to get a clearer view. The closer he came, the more his unease deepened. Whatever it was, it was big.
Bigger than a raccoon or fox, certainly—not just some unlucky animal that had wandered into the wrong yard. Its back rose and fell in shallow, labored breaths. A faint, muffled sound reached his ears—a kind of low grunting.