Catherine frowned. “I’m sure. Same markings, same size. It was right on my porch again.” “Then there’s another,” the ranger said after a beat. “Could be from the same litter. We’ll keep an eye out, get a team on rotation near your stretch of the fence.” By midmorning, the same green truck pulled up her road.
Catherine met them at the gate, her robe drawn tight, coffee untouched on the porch rail. The older ranger stepped out, squinting at the treeline. “We didn’t find anything yet, but we’ll keep the traps checked and patrols tighter. If it’s out there, we’ll locate it soon.” The younger one added, “In the meantime, try not to leave food or water out.”