Max laughed. He liked her. She was serious as hell when sober and a light drinker. "You might be growing on me there ,Avery," He sat back down.
Ten hours passed without incident. The sun rose on the lake to find Max by the fire. He looked up, the M-60 propped up against the log next to him. He took his knife from the wooden carving he was making to sheathe it. He spotted a wolf that was watching him from the edge of the woods. It looked starved and sad.
Max was a dog person and couldn't stand to see a wolf like this. He took a piece of meat from his sack and walked over to the wolf. Kneeling down, he placed the meat in front of the animal. With weak movements the wolf pulled himself to sit up to gnaw n the meat some.
As the wolf ate, max gt closer and closer until he could touch the wolf. Her gray fur looked unhealthy and just as sorry and sad as all hell. Max put his hand on the wolf and she lay against him. Too tired to care about where her food came from, she lay in his lap. He picked her up and carried her to the car and put her in the passenger seat so she could sleep while he drove.
He walked back to the log he was sitting on for watch the night before. He waited for Avery to wake up. He wondered i her should walk over and kick her foot, like his mother used to do him. He decided against it and went back to carving his sculpture. The face of the carving was almost done.