Nightfall at the Garden Border

Darkness closed over the gravel path, making forward movement through the yard an unacceptable gamble. I fell back against the raised rim of a stone edging block, away from open grass. In the soil seam, I uncovered a discarded plastic plant marker stake, snapped in half but rigid. Planting my boots firmly in the mulch, I used the blunt poll of my battle axe to drive the broken stake deep into the earth beside my flank, angled outward to deter silent scouts. Resting my back against the cold stone, weapon resting across my legs, I locked down the perimeter for the night.