The Crows Will Pick Clean Our Bones
By Isaiah Sasser Weathers followed the faint trail through the undergrowth. A broad bear print impressed softly upon the loam caught his eye; a left paw, pointing north. Four claw marks scored the earth. The claw second from the left was missing. Weathers nodded to himself. His breath quickened and his pace increased. The lever-action rifle strapped around his shoulder jostled with the forceful, deliberate … Continue reading The Crows Will Pick Clean Our Bones
