18
Footsteps carried on the warming breeze. Nancy snored softly against Wyatt’s chest, and he didn’t want to wake her. She’d asked just about every question she could think of about the pack before falling asleep. He didn’t blame her—she’d barely gotten any rest.
Thankfully, there had been a pile of blankets in the small perch. The pack didn’t use the hunting stand but had come across it a few years back. An ambitious human had set it up but had promptly been encouraged to abandon it. The deer in the area were a welcome part of the ecosystem. The pack kept it trim without need for human interference.
Wyatt straightened against the tree he sat against, and that motion was enough to wake Nancy.
She nuzzled her cheek against him.
“You’re a good pillow for someone built entirely of muscle
