Chapter 3 - Footsteps in the Mud
Silence fell over the shed, thick and suffocating, broken only by the whimpering kittens in the corner. Copper’s hackles rose, a bristling ridge running down his spine as he positioned himself squarely between Leo and the door.
""Who's in there?"" a gruff voice called out from the other side of the wood. It was raspy, edged with hostility.
Leo took a slow breath, trying to steady his pulse. He kept one hand tucked over the kitten in his chest and reached out to grasp Copper’s collar. ""Just me,"" Leo called back, pitching his voice clear and steady. ""I was getting out of the rain. And found some abandoned animals.""
A long pause stretched between them. A heavy boot scraped against the gravel outside. The latch rattled, and the weathered door swung open, letting in a blast of cold, damp air.
Standing in the doorway was an elderly man in a faded canvas coat, gripping a rusted garden spade by the handle. His face was deeply lined, eyes shadowed beneath the brim of a dripping woolen cap. He took in the sight of Leo crouched on the floor, the golden dog standing guard, and the dead mother cat in the corner.
The man’s grip on the shovel loosened slightly. ""Old Miller’s barn cat,"" the man said softly, his voice losing its edge, replaced by weary resignation. ""She’d been sick for weeks. Ran off when the rain started last night.""
""The little ones are alive,"" Leo said, motioning to the crate. ""I have to get them warm.""
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The man stared at Leo, then down at Copper. His eyes drifted to the bicycle lying visible on the street corner through the hedge gap.
""You got miles to go before you reach the veterinary clinic on Main,"" the man said flatly, pointing a calloused finger toward the gray horizon. ""And the drainage canal just overflowed. The north bridge is submerged.""
