Ernie got up then too, his aged body rising out of his chair a little at a time, until he was standing upright. “You want out, do you?”

Jaeger barked once and ran to the door. He reared up on his hind legs and desperately pawed at the doorknob.

“Hold on a minute,” Ernie said. “Let me get that for ya.” He turned the doorknob and pushed open the door.

Jaeger charged into the darkness, snarling and barking every step of the way.

“Go get ’em, boy!” Ernie cheered, then hurried over to the closet, where he kept all his coats and shoes. After slipping on his lumberjack jacket and stepping into a pair of winter boots, he pulled a hat over his head and searched the closet for a flashlight.

Meanwhile, there was noise outside, most likely coming from the stable. It was a pounding sound, as if the door was being knocked down by a fire brigade. Suddenly an awful screech pierced the night, like something was being torn apart.

“What the hell is going on out there?” Ernie shouted toward the open door. He scrambled over to the wall by the stove, where his Remington was locked securely in its rack.

Even more commotion outside now…like things inside the stable were being smashed and broken. The horse—Sir Brian Hewlitt—was neighing and stomping its hooves, as if trying to get out. On top of that was Jaeger’s constant snarling and barking, as though the dog had someone or something pinned into a corner.

Ernie fumbled with his key chain, at first having a hard time finding the right key, then having little luck sliding that key into the padlock securing the shotgun. And while he struggled with the lock, a tremendous roar came from outside. It was so loud that Ernie could feel it in his bones. He’d never heard anything like it before, but if he had to guess, he’d say it came from something big, like a grizzly bear…a mean one, to boot.

Finally, the key slipped into the hole, and in a single motion, Ernie turned the key and popped open the lock. A second later, he was heading toward the open door with the loaded gun in his hands. But before he even reached the door, there was a sharp yelp, and Jaeger’s barking—as well as all the other noises that had been coming from the stable—stopped abruptly.

“Who’s there?” Ernie shouted into the darkness. He held the shotgun in his right hand, tucking the butt under his arm so he could keep the gun aimed while using his left hand to shine his flashlight into the forest.

There—movement among the trees.

As he adjusted the direction of the beam, he caught sight of a pair of wolves darting between two trees, one of them with a rabbit clenched in its maw.