Page 23 of Wild Claim

But there she stood. Mina. Her hair wild, chest heaving, wielding that makeshift club like a baseball bat.

“Back off frommyturkey!” She swung at another coyote that lunged, and it fell back with a snarl. The pack circled warily, sizing up this new threat.

I gaped at her, my bird brain struggling to process. She’d followed me. She was here. Defending me. Another attacked from behind. I screeched, launching myself at its face. My talons raked fur. The coyote howled, then turned back into the forest. One of the remaining coyotes lunged, jaws snapping. Mina barely dodged, but the force sent her stumbling. She hit the ground hard, gasping.

Something inside me snapped.

With an enraged gobble, I launched myself at it. Wings flapping, I pecked and clawed, my spurs finding their mark. The coyote yelped, running away.

The largest coyote locked eyes with us. A low growl rumbled from its throat.

Mina didn’t flinch. “Try it,” she hissed.

It snarled and turned tail, melting back into the shadows.

Her shoulders sagged. The branch slipped from her fingers. She stumbled, caught herself against a tree. “Rory,” she said, sliding to the ground. “You stubborn gobbler.”

I rushed to her side, clucking like a worried mother hen. Mina was banged up badly. Blood oozed from her arm; legs all scratched to hell. And for what? My sorry feathered ass.

She reached out, stroking my head. “I couldn’t let you go,” she said softly. “Not like that.”

I pressed my beak against her palm, wishing I could tell her how much of an idiot I’d been. All I managed was a gobble. Her fingers gently probed the gash on my back. I flinched, more from the tenderness than pain.

“What were you thinking, taking off like that?”

I couldn’t look at her. Shame isn’t an impressive look on a turkey.

Mina struggled to her feet, swaying slightly. “We need to get out of here before those coyotes come back. It’s rare to see them hunting in a pack like wolves.”

Those were my thoughts exactly. I tugged at her jeans with my beak, then pointed my head down the path. She stared at me, so I did it again, more insistently.

“You... want me to follow you?”

I nodded vigorously.

“Okay, right behind you.”

The trek seemed endless. Every few steps, I’d crane my neck back, making sure Mina kept pace. Her breathing grew labored. The trees thinned, revealing a small clearing. My cabin looked like it had gone ten rounds with Mother Nature and lost, but itwas still standing. Weathered logs, a chimney, and a porch that had seen better days.

For years, it had been my refuge. A place to hide from the world. Just me, the woods, and the occasional hunting prey that crossed my path. Now, with Mina beside me, it felt different. Like coming home for the first time.

Mina’s laugh was breathless. “Is this your mountain hideout?”

I clucked, impatient, and pecked at a large rock beside the porch.

“What is it?”

Come on, sweetheart. Figure it out. I pecked again, more insistently.

Her eyes grew wide. She kneeled, wincing with pain, and groped around the rock. Her fingers located the notch, and Mina extracted the spare key. “Got it. Let’s go inside.”

We made our way to the porch. I watched as Mina fumbled with the key. The lock clicked, and she pushed the door open with a creak. I scurried inside, desperate to get her out of the cold.

The cabin was a mess. Dust coated every surface, and cobwebs hung in the corners. Mina stumbled to the worn couch, collapsing onto it with a groan. I clucked anxiously, wishing I could do more than watch her suffer.

“I’m okay,” she murmured, but her pale face said otherwise.

My turkey brain worked overtime as I walked back and forth. First aid kit. Where the hell did I keep it?

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