The room's layout was still the same with the window, two doors, closet, and so forth. The door then swung open, and she stood there looking at me wit... her evil smile again. It looked as if this scene was attempting to repeat itself, so I knew I could best her now. I stepped backwards at the tall dresser, waiting for her to make her move. She ran towards me with the knife, holding it in the air, and took a vertical swing. I jumped out of the way, and her knife stabbed into the dresser, lodging. Moki never wore a collar of course, but in sex she must. He knew his bitch never doubted it. He divined she never had to: they were a team, after all, so well trained that even short of camp, little more than, really, a beat up sleeping bag and a cooler perched on a rise, he could bump her to a stop, sniff her to her back, force her legs apart, and as he had done often when they had been a-froggin' back East, roll in her carp to conceal his own scent. He would be quick though, with his. More

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