8
Tom slogged toward the riverbank, his gum boots sinking into the waterlogged ground. Thunder cracked overhead, another downpour threatening as the clouds swirled above him like black smoke. Tom sighed at the thought of more rain. As much as they needed rain after the dry summer, the entire autumn average in the space of a fortnight wasn’t what he had in mind. The river was nearing its peak, and if the rain kept up, he would have to move the cattle. The last thing he needed was losing them to floodwaters. It had already been a tough year, losing one of his prized bulls to a freak accident over the summer. He still felt sick at the thought of the bull he’d found after a particularly wild summer storm. He couldn’t’ tell what had happened at first, but on closer inspection and sighting the
