A Leap Across the Brambles

I scrambled up the rough bark of a fallen oak to catch the high ridge before dark. The evening shadows were pooling thick among the fern stalks below, but this vantage point gave me a clear view across the undergrowth. A sudden flutter in the dead leaves caught my attention—just a beetle rolling an acorn shell. I sprang across a tangled patch of thorny briars, landing square on all four paws without rustling a dry branch. The ground holds firm here. My night patrol has officially begun.