Juno still had two more days left before she really needed to start cracking down and doing more of her design work. That was the comfortable rhythm she had fallen into ever since moving out here, and it worked well enough that she saw no reason to change it. She wasn’t an idiot about it, though. She knew better than to finish everything early and send it all in at once like some overeager newbie trying to impress a boss. That sort of thing only taught people to expect too much from you later on, and Juno had no interest in setting that kind of precedent a fifth time.
Instead, she had developed a system that suited her just fine.
Monday through Wednesday were usually her heavy work days, when she would sit down at her desk with a mug of coffee and sort through all the files, sketches, and documents she had been building up over the previous week. Once everything was polished up and looking professional enough to satisfy her standards, she would schedule the finished work to be sent out gradually over the rest of the week. She even timed it so some of the files would arrive a little earlier than expected, just enough to give the impression that she was a dedicated and efficient worker who stayed ahead of deadlines.
Which she technically was.
She just happened to do most of that work in three very productive days instead of five.
That meant the rest of the week was usually hers to enjoy however she liked.
She had already gone out for two hikes recently, wandering through the surrounding forest and enjoying the quiet trails that few people ever seemed to visit. While she had briefly considered doing another hike today, the responsible part of her brain eventually reminded her that there were other things around the cabin that needed attention first.
Chores, unfortunately, had a way of piling up if she ignored them for too long.
She still needed to start preparing more firewood for the coming winter, which was something she had been putting off for a while now because it involved more physical effort than she usually felt like putting in first thing in the morning. The lawn was also beginning to look a little wild and overgrown again, though she was fairly certain she could get away with ignoring that for at least another week without the place turning into a complete jungle.
Then there was the general house cleaning that she had been meaning to tackle.
Eventually.
Probably.
Maybe.
After allowing herself the luxury of sleeping in for another hour longer than she originally intended, Juno finally dragged herself out of bed and decided that firewood was probably the most productive place to start the day.
It would at least make her feel like she had accomplished something.
After getting dressed, she stood in front of the small mirror in her bedroom for a moment and looked herself over with a small, satisfied nod. She had thrown on a plaid shirt and a pair of well-fitted jeans that hugged her hips and legs comfortably while still being practical enough for outdoor work. The whole outfit leaned a little toward what she privately referred to as her “butch mode,” which was usually the look she went for when she was planning to spend the day doing physical work around the property.
Besides, she had to admit the jeans did a pretty good job of showing off her admittedly impressive backside.
Not that there was anyone around to appreciate that fact, of course.
With that thought in mind, she headed for the front door and stepped outside—
—and very nearly tripped over something lying right in the doorway.
She stumbled slightly, catching herself on the frame before she could faceplant onto the porch.
“What the—”
Her eyes dropped to the ground, and the moment she realized what she had almost stepped on, she let out a long, tired sigh.
It was a leg.
More specifically, it was a deer leg.
The entire leg.
It still had most of the meat attached to it, and the fur along the upper part looked like it had been roughly torn away where it had separated from the rest of the body. The edges were ragged and messy in a way that made it pretty clear that whatever had removed it had not used a knife.
Juno stood there for a few seconds, staring down at the thing while her brain slowly processed the situation.
“Yeah,” she muttered eventually. “This might be a gift.”
Considering the mysterious rock, the fragrant bark, and the cryptid she was about ninety percent certain had been watching her during her barbecue the night before, the conclusion felt almost unavoidable.
Unfortunately, it was also a gift she had absolutely no idea what to do with.
She certainly wasn’t going to eat it. For one thing, she had no real experience preparing meat like that, and for another she had no clue what sort of parasites, diseases, or other unpleasant surprises might be lurking inside a random deer leg that had been dragged through the forest and dropped onto her porch.
Just imagining it made her wrinkle her nose.
“So… what exactly am I supposed to do with this?” she murmured to herself.
The deer leg, unsurprisingly, did not offer any helpful suggestions.
After another moment of contemplation, Juno sighed again and bent down to pick it up. It was heavier than it looked, and she had to adjust her grip carefully to keep it balanced while also avoiding getting any blood on her clothes.
She carried it inside as carefully as she could, holding it slightly away from her body while she tried very hard not to think about the fact that she was currently transporting a freshly detached deer limb through her living room.
Maybe Barry down the road would know what to do with it.
Barry had lived out here most of his life and had a lot more experience dealing with hunting, wild animals, and general rural weirdness than she did. If anyone could look at a mysterious deer leg and offer some practical advice, it was probably him.
“Well,” she muttered as she set it down carefully on the kitchen floor, “that definitely changes the plan for today.”
Pulling out her phone, she quickly sent Barry a text asking if he was free for a quick visit. The reply came back only a minute later confirming that he was around.
That solved that problem.
Juno grabbed a few old clothes from deep inside her drawers that hadn’t seen the light of day in almost a year, along with a tarp she kept in the garage and did her best to wrap the leg up securely so it wouldn’t make a mess in the ute. Once she was reasonably confident it wouldn’t leak all over the upholstery, she carried the bundle outside and placed it carefully in the back seat of her vehicle.
A few minutes later she was driving down the quiet country road that led away from her cabin, trees sliding past the windows as the tires hummed along the pavement. After a short drive she spotted the familiar turnoff and slowed down, pulling into Barry’s gravel driveway as the loose stones crunched loudly beneath her wheels.
Juno pulled her ute into Barry’s driveway, the gravel crunching loudly beneath the tires as she rolled to a stop beside his own vehicle, which looked like it had been parked there for a while. She shut off the engine and sat there for a second, staring ahead at the house and mentally preparing herself for the very strange conversation she was about to have.
After a moment she sighed, opened the door, and climbed out.
Walking around to the back seat, she reached inside and carefully fished out the bundle she had wrapped up earlier. Even through the layers of old clothes and tarp she could still feel the heavy, awkward shape of the deer leg inside, which did absolutely nothing to make this situation feel more normal.
Still, she had already come this far.
Juno walked up the short path toward the front door and knocked firmly against the wood, shifting the weight of the bundle slightly in her arms while she waited.
Thankfully Barry was home today, which made sense since it was Saturday and most people around here were usually either working on their property or relaxing at home during the weekend. It only took a few seconds before she heard footsteps on the other side of the door, followed by the handle turning.
The door swung open and Barry appeared in the doorway.
“Ello, Juno,” he said with a casual nod.
Barry was a little over a decade older than her, sitting somewhere in his mid-forties, though he carried himself with the relaxed confidence of someone who had spent most of his life outdoors and wasn’t bothered by much. His hair was cut short and dark, though a few streaks of grey had started creeping in around the sides, and his skin had the deep tan of someone who worked in the sun more days than not. He had a broad, solid build that suggested plenty of physical labor over the years, though there was also a noticeable bit of a beer belly pressing gently against his shirt that hinted at evenings spent relaxing with a cold drink after work.
All in all, he looked exactly like the sort of rural neighbor who could probably fix a tractor, butcher a deer, and repair a fence all in the same afternoon.
Juno lifted the awkward bundle in her arms slightly.
“Hey Barry,” she said. “So… I got this hock of meat. It’s, uh… fresh. I was kind of hoping you might know what to do with it.”
Barry’s eyebrows slowly climbed up his forehead as he looked down at the bundle.
“How fresh is it?” he asked carefully.
Juno hesitated for a second, trying to think of the best way to answer that.
“Uhh… maybe a few hours?” she said. “It’s still got the skin on and it’s a little bloody.”
Barry squinted slightly at her.
“Maybe?” he repeated.
Juno rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.
“Well,” she said slowly, “it was a… uh… gift.”
Barry stared at her for a moment.
“Riiiight,” he said eventually, drawing the word out just enough to make it very clear that he had several questions he was choosing not to ask right now.
Instead he stepped aside and gestured toward the side of the house.
“Let’s go out to the shed,” he said. “I do the butchering there.”
Juno nodded quickly, relieved that he wasn’t pressing the issue just yet, and followed him around the side of the house while carefully holding onto the bundle.
“Can I ask questions?” Barry said after a moment, his tone somewhere between cautious curiosity and the slow-building suspicion of a man who suspected he might be about to hear something very strange.
“Suuuuure,” Juno replied, dragging the word out lazily while shrugging her shoulders. “I got nothing better to do today anyway.”
Barry gave her a look that suggested he was not entirely convinced that was a good thing.
He pushed open the door to the large shed beside the house and stepped inside, reaching over to flick on the overhead lights. A series of old fluorescent tubes buzzed to life one by one, filling the interior with a bright white glow that revealed a space clearly designed for practical work rather than comfort.
It was a big shed, much larger than Juno had expected the first time she’d seen it. Tools lined the walls in neat, well-used rows, and there were stacks of timber, spare parts, and assorted farm equipment scattered throughout the space. Along one wall sat a heavy butcher table made from thick wood that had clearly seen many years of use. The surface bore the faint scars of knives and cleavers, along with the darker stains that came from processing more animals than anyone could probably remember.
Barry walked over to the table and gave it a quick wipe with an old cloth before gesturing toward it.
“So where’d you get it?” he asked, nodding at the bundle in her arms.
Juno stepped forward and carefully dropped the wrapped deer leg onto the table with a soft thud.
“Found it on my doorstep,” she replied.
Barry blinked slowly.
“And you want to eat it?” he asked, already reaching for the tarp and beginning to unwrap the somewhat clumsy layers Juno had thrown around the leg earlier.
“Well… uh… I don’t know,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “Maybe? If it’s safe? I mean, it was a gift… I think.”
Barry paused halfway through pulling the tarp back and looked up at her.
“Maybe?” he repeated.
Juno shifted her weight awkwardly.
“I’m pretty sure it was a gift,” she said.
Barry continued unwrapping the bundle, though his movements had slowed slightly.
“From who?” he asked.
Juno hesitated for a moment, clearly debating how ridiculous this was going to sound once she said it out loud.
“Maybe a cryptid that might be stalking me?” she said eventually.
Barry froze completely.
The shed went very quiet for a second.
Then he slowly turned his head to look at her.
“What?” he said.
“Yeeaahhh,” Juno replied, drawing the word out with a nervous half-smile. “I’ll be honest, I’m still kind of parsing all of this myself. I think I’m mostly operating on autopilot right now.”
Barry stared at her for another moment before gesturing vaguely toward the meat.
“What did it look like?” he asked.
“I only caught a glimpse,” Juno said. “But it looked taller than me, and I’m pretty sure it was kind of humanoid shaped.”
Barry sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Ah, bugger.”
Juno’s stomach dropped slightly.
“Bad thing?” she asked carefully.
Barry leaned against the table and crossed his arms as he thought about it.
“Could be,” he said. “Only humanoid cryptids we’ve got around New Zealand are the Moehau, and most of them live way further down south where people don’t wander much. Still… I know there are one or two that’ve been spotted in the forests around here over the years.”
Juno blinked.
“Oh.”
Barry scratched his chin thoughtfully.
“Friend of mine had a cousin who got killed by one years back,” he continued. “Dangerous things when they want to be.”
Juno’s face went pale.
“Oh. Shit. Fuck.”
Barry shrugged.
“Yeah, nah. Though that one didn’t leave gifts or anything like that. Just hunted poor Stevo down and ate him. Grim stuff all around.”
He paused briefly.
“Got the bugger that did it eventually though.”
“I… see,” Juno said weakly.
Barry waved a hand dismissively.
“Honestly the local ones aren’t so bad as far as I know,” he added. “That’s the only real incident I’ve ever heard about around here. Most of the time they just run off if anyone actually spots them, which isn’t often. They keep to themselves.”
Juno let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
“Still,” Barry continued, pointing a finger at her, “you should watch yourself. Might not be a bad idea to get a dog or something. You’re living out there on your own, and even if the odds are low, it’s better to be careful.”
Juno smiled faintly at that.
“Aww, you’re such a sweetheart,” she said teasingly.
Barry snorted.
“Careful there,” he said with a grin. “If I didn’t know you were a dyke I might think you were sweet on me.”
Juno burst out laughing.
“Don’t let Lou catch you saying that,” she shot back. “She’ll have your hide.”
Barry laughed loudly at that, and leaned over the butcher table, turning the deer leg slightly in his hands while he examined it with the kind of practiced focus that came from years of dealing with game animals. He pressed a thumb into the muscle here and there, then lifted one edge of the hide to get a better look at the cut where the limb had been separated from the rest of the body.
“Doesn’t look too bad,” he said after a moment, sounding mildly impressed in spite of himself. “Bit rough and dirty around the edge where it came off, but that can be cleaned up easy enough.”
He pointed toward the ragged part where the leg had clearly been torn or twisted away rather than neatly cut.
“See here? Whatever did this wasn’t exactly using proper tools. But the meat itself still looks good. If this thing had been sitting out any longer I’d probably tell you to toss the whole lot just to be safe.”
He gave the leg another quick inspection, then nodded to himself.
“But it’s still fresh enough that it should be fine.”
“Rightio,” Juno said, folding her arms while she watched him work.
Barry grabbed one of the knives from the rack mounted along the wall and tested the edge with his thumb before beginning to carefully separate the hide from the muscle beneath it. His movements were smooth and confident, the blade sliding between skin and meat with the easy precision of someone who had done this many times before.
For a minute the only sounds in the shed were the faint scrape of the knife and the low hum of the fluorescent lights overhead.
Then Barry spoke again without looking up.
“Want to borrow my hunting rifle?”
Juno blinked.
“I don’t have a license,” she replied.
Barry shrugged casually as he worked.
“Eh. No one’s going to check out here.”
Juno gave him a flat look.
“That is not a comforting sentence.”
Barry chuckled quietly but kept working the knife under the hide, peeling it back in slow, deliberate strokes.
“Besides,” Juno continued, “I also don’t really want to shoot something smart if I don’t absolutely have to.”
Barry snorted.
“Better than ending up dead.”
Juno leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms.
“I’ll pass,” she said. “Thanks though. I’m pretty sure it isn’t hostile.”
Barry paused just long enough to glance at her before returning his attention to the leg.
“Well,” he said, his tone drifting somewhere between amused and grimly practical, “either you’re right…”
He sliced another strip of hide free.
“…or it suddenly won’t be your problem anymore.”
He let out a short, morbid chuckle at his own comment.
Juno stared at him for a moment.
“Barry.”
“Yeah?”
“You are incredibly bad at reassurance.”
Barry grinned without looking up from his work.
“Been told that before.”