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A statuesque Wolverine, standing there, gazed at Estelle with a pair of bewildered eyes.
Rising to her feet, Estelle gripped a knife in her hand, locking gaze with the Wolverine in the darkness. Her
expression was serene, a silent pact that as long as the Wolverine didn’t provoke her, she wouldn’t harm it either.
Sensing no ill intent from Estelle, the Wolverine let out a grunt and settled itself onto the ground.
Estelle followed suit and sat down.
In the darkness, human and beast sat facing each other.
The Wolverine kept its eyes on Estelle, looking somewhat displeased, yet it didn’t attack.
Estelle felt something was amiss, her mind raced, and then it clicked. She pointed at the straw on the ground and
asked, “Is this yours?”
After a pause, she added, “Do you understand me? If not, we can converse in another language.”
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtIt seemed the Wolverine got the gist as it snorted through its nose in a gesture that felt like it was saying, “You
finally get it.”
Estelle couldn’t help but chuckle. Aren’t bears supposed to live in tree hollows? What’s with the straw bedding? And
here she was, unwittingly squatting in a bear’s den.
She was about to stand and relinquish the spot to the Wolverine when she noticed it eyeing a sandwich wrapper on
the ground.
With a twinkling eye, Estelle reached into her bag and pulled out a slice of it, offering it forward, “Fancy a bite?”
The Wolverine, seated on the ground, grinned with a hearty laugh.
“Well then, let’s make a deal,” Estelle proposed merrily. “I’ll give you this one, and you let me crash here for the
night.”
The Wolverine nodded in agreement.
Estelle sighed in relief, amused by its cleverness.
Unwrapping the dessert, she placed the tiramisu before the creature.
The Wolverine cautiously nibbled at first, but then joyfully crammed the rest into its mouth, chewing with gusto.
Seeing its delight, Estelle unwrapped a cream cake from her stash and offered it as well.
She then nestled into the straw and drifted back to sleep.
After finishing the cake, the Wolverine looked up to find the girl already asleep on the straw. It ambled to another
corner of the watchtower, plopped down on the tiles, and shut its eyes as well.
The next morning, as dawn faintly brightened the sky, Estelle woke to find the Wolverine gone. Stretching languidly,
she collected her water bottle and the empty cake wrappers, tucking them into her bag. Then, she left another slice
of cake by the straw as a thank you and tidied herself up before descending the tower.
Her car was still parked by the field. She tossed her bag in and continued on the road, hoping to reach Citadel by
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmnoon.
But when she had driven thirty miles without sighting a gas station, she sensed trouble.
Soon, her car sputtered, running on fumes, and stalled.
And there it was, a gas station sign, a mere twenty miles ahead.
Estelle exited the vehicle, shouldering her bag and making the trek by foot.
In less than thirty minutes, she reached a quaint town with sparse activity – just a couple of convenience stores, a
gas station, and two motels.
Estelle headed straight for the nearest store.
Outside, a few locals lounged about. Among them, a solo female traveler – clearly a compatriot – was scarfing
down food with her backpack seated beside her.
Behind her, a group of men leered in her direction, their demeanors slack and suggestive.
Sitting by the window was the store’s owner, basking in the sun with his sandy hair and a paunch proudly on display.
Parked curbside was a blue Cullinan, its occupants obscured from view.
Estelle took in the scene with a swift glance and continued towards the convenience store with an unhurried pace.
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