There was no getting past this point; Vim was lonely. She had loved a buck, and raised their young. The children had left one by one as they grew sure, and good for them to be their own people; the buck had left once the children were grown, and good for him, to not be tied down unnecessarily by lingering affection. But now Vim was used to there being people with her most of the time, and she missed it dearly. She visited her sister often, and lingered around gathering places, but it was not the same.
Presently, she was restlessly wandering up, down, and around a commonly traveled path. She didn't intend to ambush people, but when you wander out of the brush beside someone walking by, minding their own business, they tend to end up kind of frightened.
