TWITCHING

There was a stout, well-built hut in the middle, and an outhouse behind and to the side. There was a medium-sized animal pen, with the fence connected to the wall of the hut. A small barn completed the buildings in the large space, everything looking very organized.

“Here we are,” King announced. His breathing still sounded uncannily even and Juniper ignored how that discovery made her feel inside.

“Hullo!” King called loudly.

A man, who Juniper assumed was a ranger, opened the front door and peeked outside the hut. He had on a thick fisherman’s jacket over an equally thick checkered shirt. He had on faded jeans, and a pair of sturdy leather boots to complete the look.

He still had a spoon in one hand, and Emilia concluded that she and King had probably disturbed the poor man’s lunch. He had an impatient look on his face as he stepped out of the hut fully.

He glanced at Emilia with shock written all over his face. His eyes narrowed and she rolled her eyes. Yeah, the town folk still di