I ducked a little to see between the tops of the books and the bottom of the next shelf. They were packed so damned tight I could barely make out what...was on the other side. I moved a little down the aisle. Her fingers playfully tapped the tops of the books on her end of the shelf as if she were counting. I stayed still and held my breath to see what I could hear.The boards creaked underneath her with each step she made. Then she stopped. I thought I heard a little laugh, but I couldn't tell. They wagged pony and puppy dog tails; they flounced and pounced, and popping open the final bottle of Evian from the backpack, they lapped it to the last. So sated, they shared her scent, his scent, and their last supper of Fig Newtons. He showed some pink, and she grew damp: time to finish. Get to camp. "Not long", she purred. She meant it. She gave her word. Thus he marked the spot and off they went, his tail a flapping vestment, her backpack a trailing supplicant scraping across the. More

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