Apparently the deer meat had turned out to be perfectly fine after all. Barry had examined the leg carefully while he worked, trimming away the rough and dirty edges where the limb had been torn from the carcass and checking the muscle for any signs that it had begun to spoil. In the end he had given a satisfied grunt and declared that most of the meat had been untouched and fresh enough to use without much concern.
He had explained that it would work particularly well in stews, where the long cooking time would soften the tougher cuts and bring out the flavor properly. If she really wanted to, he said she could even slice off a decent venison steak from one of the better sections, though Juno had admitted that she was not particularly fond of venison prepared that way.
In her experience venison steaks were a bit temperamental. If you cooked them even slightly too long they had a frustrating tendency to dry out and turn chewy, and she did not trust her own cooking skills enough to get it right every time.
Stews, on the other hand, were much more forgiving.
On the drive home she had been thinking that maybe she would buy some pastry sheets next time she went into town and try making a venison pie, the kind that bubbled up thick and rich inside a golden crust. A good stew was also tempting, especially now that the evenings were slowly getting cooler.
Either way, it was not something she needed to decide immediately.
The moment she arrived back at the cabin she had wrapped the cleaned cuts carefully and placed them into the freezer so they would keep until she figured out exactly what she wanted to do with them.
Even after the practical side of things had been sorted out, the whole situation still felt incredibly surreal to her.
Receiving a gift from a cryptid was not exactly a normal life experience.
Especially not from one that, according to Barry, belonged to a species that had a reputation for being territorial and occasionally violent.
That thought lingered in the back of her mind as she moved through the rest of her day.
When she had first returned home with the meat she had once again felt that strange sensation of being watched, the faint prickling awareness that someone or something might be nearby and observing her movements from the edge of the trees. She had looked around the clearing several times, scanning the treeline and listening carefully for any unusual sounds, but she had not been able to spot anything out of place.
The forest had remained quiet and still.
Eventually she had shrugged it off and gotten on with her chores.
The rest of the day passed more or less the way most of her cleaning days did. She turned on her speakers and blasted music throughout the cabin while she worked, singing along loudly and somewhat off-key to a collection of classic songs from her parents’ generation.
It was mostly old rock and pop from the seventies and eighties, the kind of music she had grown up hearing on long car rides as a kid.
The upbeat rhythm made the work go by faster, and before long she had swept the floors, wiped down the counters, sorted through the laundry, and generally brought the cabin back to a comfortable state of order.
By the time evening rolled around the sky outside had grown dark, and the forest beyond her windows had settled into the quiet stillness that came with nightfall.
For dinner she pulled out a container of curry she had cooked the week before and left it in some warm water to defrost . After warming it up on the stove she set some rice to cook and continued tidying up the last few things around the house while she waited.
Her plan was to finish everything tonight so she could enjoy a completely lazy Sunday without worrying about chores.
Once she finished eating, she noticed that the small bin in the kitchen was starting to get a bit full.
With a small sigh she tied the trash bag closed and carried it toward the door so she could toss it into the wheely bin outside.
It was such a routine action that she barely thought about it.
She opened the door.
Stepped outside.
And froze immediately.
Because she was not alone.
Standing beside the wheely bin, hunched over slightly as if it had been rummaging through the contents, was a woman.
Except she was far larger than any woman Juno had ever seen before.
Even while crouched slightly she was easily well over two meters tall, and the massive antlers rising from the top of her head made her seem even taller than that. The wide branching points caught the faint porch light in a way that made their size even more impressive.
Her legs were not human at all. They were shaped more like the hind legs of a canine, powerful and slightly bent, ending in thick paws that rested firmly against the ground. Dark fur covered those legs completely, running upward until it reached the upper thighs.
The same dark fur covered her arms as well, stretching down to hands tipped with long, sharp claws that still somehow resembled human fingers.
Behind her a thick canine tail swished slowly from side to side.
And yet, strangely enough, the middle of her body looked almost human.
Her torso was covered in smooth tanned skin very similar to Juno’s own, with no fur at all. There were small breasts there, completely uncovered, along with the rest of her body below.
The sight caught Juno so off guard that she felt a sudden rush of heat creep into her face.
For reasons she did not fully understand, she found herself blushing.
The creature’s head was perhaps the most striking feature of all.
Her face was almost human in shape, but when her mouth opened it stretched far wider than any human’s could. Inside that wide grin was a terrifying array of sharp teeth that looked more suited for tearing meat than chewing vegetables.
For some reason, that also made Juno blush slightly harder.
As if the situation were not strange enough already, the enormous antlered woman was currently holding a discarded, half eaten sandwich in one clawed hand.
The giant wild woman was happily eating it and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then the creature slowly turned her head toward Juno and their eyes met.
The cryptid paused for a second, then very slowly, stuffed the rest of the half-eaten sandwich into her enormous mouth.
She chewed once, then twice, and then, without any warning at all, she spun around and bolted toward the treeline with frightening speed. She disappeared into the darkness of the forest before Juno’s brain had even finished processing what had just happened.
Juno stood there for an unknown amount of time in shock, staring in the direction the cryptid ran. Eventually though, her brain gave up and she put the trash in the bin and went back inside.
Maybe it was time to turn in. Tomorrow Juno could deal with… with… all that.
Juno paced slowly back and forth in front of the grill, the warm smell of cooking meat drifting up into the late morning air and mixing with the faint scent of cut grass and damp earth that always seemed to linger around her property. Every so often she would stop mid-pace, turn back toward the grill, and poke at the sausages and chops with a pair of long metal tongs before flipping them over with a little distracted motion of her wrist. The meat sizzled loudly each time it touched the hot bars again, sending up little bursts of smoke that curled lazily into the sky.
She had been doing this same restless loop for the better part of the morning, and it was not really because the food needed that much attention. The truth was that her mind had been spinning in circles ever since the previous night, and pacing gave her something to do with her body while her thoughts chased each other around and around like dogs that had forgotten what they were running after in the first place.
The sensible thing to do in this situation, she kept telling herself, would probably be to get a dog. Not just any dog either, but a big one. Something that looked intimidating enough that anything snooping around the property would think twice about coming closer. She imagined something large and muscular trotting around the yard while she worked or relaxed outside.
Maybe not a pitbull though. Despite the reputation they always had in movies and on the news, every pitbull Juno had ever met had been the exact opposite of scary. They had all been huge blocky headed tanks on four legs, yes, but they were also the friendliest and most ridiculously affectionate animals she had ever encountered. Every single one of them had seemed convinced that they were a lap dog despite weighing as much as a sack of concrete, and they had all possessed that same vacant but cheerful look that suggested there was not a single complicated thought happening inside their skulls.
They were sweet. Way too sweet. Not exactly what you wanted for guarding your home against mysterious forest creatures.
Maybe a collie would be better. She had seen a few working collies around the district and they were smart as anything, always watching everything around them with those bright alert eyes. They were fast too, and she had plenty of space on her property for a dog to run around properly. It might even be nice to take one hiking with her through the hills and bush tracks on the weekends.
That would be the logical approach.
Instead, she was currently standing in her backyard cooking a frankly excessive amount of meat so she could offer it to the, uh…
She hesitated in her thoughts.
…the aesthetically pleasing cryptid that had been rummaging through her rubbish.
Juno closed her eyes briefly and dragged a hand down her face.
Oh fuck, she was down bad.
There was really no polite way to describe it. Juno had always had a bit of a thing for tall women. Not just tall either, but strong looking ones too. The sort of women who looked like they could carry a log on their shoulder or pick someone up without too much trouble. The memory of that towering figure from the night before kept replaying in her head whether she liked it or not.
Even the shape of her face had been doing something to Juno’s brain, and the moment she let herself remember her tong—
She swallowed and forcefully shoved that train of thought aside.
Nope. Not helpful right now.
Horny thoughts could come later. Maybe.
Right now she needed to focus on the fact that there was apparently a very large and probably very dangerous creature living in the forest next to her property, and she was currently trying to lure it out with a barbecue like some kind of extremely questionable wildlife documentary host.
God she had gotten this down bad from a single glimpse in the dark.
Eventually the food was finished cooking. The sausages were nicely browned, the chops had good grill marks across them, and the vegetables she had tossed on the side of the grill had softened and charred just enough to smell amazing.
Juno grabbed a plate for herself and put together a perfectly reasonable portion of food, the kind of meal someone might actually eat for lunch. After that she turned her attention to the rest of what she had cooked, which was… quite a lot.
She had opened one of her cupboards and rummaged around for a moment before finally discovering the biggest plate she owned, which had been shoved awkwardly toward the back behind a stack of mismatched bowls she rarely used. She had honestly forgotten she even had the thing.
One by one she piled the remaining sausages, chops, and vegetables onto it until the plate looked slightly ridiculous, like something you might see in a cartoon where someone was trying to feed a small army.
Then she stood there holding it for a moment.
Juno stared down at the mountain of food and let out a long sigh, because this entire situation felt faintly ridiculous when she actually stopped to think about it.
Still, off she went.
She carried the plate across the yard and toward the edge of her property where the grass gave way to the darker, thicker line of trees that marked the beginning of the forest. The grass along that edge had grown a little longer than the rest of the yard, and she made a mental note that she really did need to get around to cutting it next week.
Reaching the treeline, she crouched down and carefully placed the plate on the grass.
For a few seconds she just stared at it, her hands resting on her knees as she looked down at the absurd offering she had prepared for a creature she barely understood and had only seen for a few seconds in the dark.
She shook her head slightly in disbelief at herself.
Then she turned around and walked back across the yard toward the picnic table where she often ate outside on nice days. Sitting down, she pulled her own plate closer and started eating.
She made a point of taking her time with the meal, chewing slowly and trying very hard to act like nothing unusual was happening. Every now and then she would glance up toward the treeline where the untouched pile of food sat waiting, but she resisted the urge to stare too obviously.
Minutes passed like that.
Then, from the very edge of her vision, she noticed movement.
Juno forced herself not to look immediately. Instead she took another bite of food and kept her gaze generally pointed forward, pretending to be far more interested in her lunch than she actually was.
A few seconds later she saw it again.
The bushes near the plate shifted slightly, and from within the leaves and branches something large and dark moved with surprising care. New chapters come out on g.com first.
Finally she allowed her eyes to drift in that direction.
A massive figure was slowly emerging from the trees.
Despite the size of her, the woman moved with an almost eerie quietness, stepping out from the cover of the bushes in a cautious crouch as if she was expecting something to leap out at any moment. The sunlight filtering through the trees fell across her body as she moved, revealing details that Juno had only been able to guess at the night before.
It was the first time Juno had properly seen her in the daylight, and for a moment Juno, honestly forgot how to breathe.
Holy shit, she was hot.
That was the first thought that blasted through her brain with absolutely no warning or subtlety whatsoever. The antlers rising up from the wolf-woman’s head were honestly just the cherry on top of the whole situation, branching up and out in a way that made her look even taller and more imposing than she already was. In the daylight they looked even more impressive, pale and smooth with multiple sharp points that caught the sun whenever she shifted her head.
Juno had to force herself not to stare too obviously, even though staring was exactly what she wanted to do.
The cryptid turned her head slightly and glanced over toward Juno. In daylight, her eyes looked even stranger. There were no whites like a human had, just deep black surrounding those bright golden irises. The pupils were large and round, making the gold stand out sharply against the darkness. It gave her gaze an intense and slightly unnerving quality, like she was always fully focused on whatever she was looking at.
Right now, that happened to be Juno.
The cryptid stared at her for a long moment that stretched on just long enough for Juno to start wondering if maybe this had been a very stupid idea after all. There was something almost heavy about that gaze, like the woman was carefully studying her and trying to figure out exactly what sort of creature she was dealing with.
Eventually though, the strange woman tore her attention away from Juno and looked down at the offering of food sitting on the grass.
She crouched lower and reached toward the plate with one hand, moving slowly and cautiously like she expected the food to suddenly leap up and attack her. Her clawed fingers prodded at the pile of sausages and chops, gently poking and nudging them as if she was trying to figure out what exactly they were.
After a moment she picked up one of the sausages.
She held it up near her face and sniffed it, her nose twitching slightly as she investigated the smell. Then, without much hesitation after that, she opened her mouth and extended her tongue.
The thing was long.
Like… really long.
She wrapped it around the sausage in a smooth motion and pulled the entire thing into her mouth before Juno’s brain had fully caught up with what was happening. The cryptid bit down once and swallowed.
Juno immediately had a very unhelpful thought.
Holy shit, what that tongue do.
She coughed quietly into her hand and tried very hard to look like she was calmly eating her lunch instead of mentally short-circuiting over monster tongue physics.
Meanwhile the cryptid seemed to have decided the food was acceptable.
She reached down again and grabbed another sausage, eating it in a similarly efficient manner, before moving on to one of the chops. This time she used both hands, gripping the bone while she bit into the meat. Her sharp teeth tore through it with ease, and she began gnawing along the edge with an enthusiasm that made it very clear she had no trouble dealing with bones and tougher cuts.
Juno watched as the strange woman stripped the meat from the bone with quick bites, occasionally tilting her head slightly as she worked her way along it. In what felt like no time at all the chop was completely bare, and she tossed the clean bone aside before immediately reaching for another piece.
She continued like that for a while, working through the sausages and the chops one by one until the pile of meat had been reduced to nothing but a few scattered bones.
Then she picked up one of the grilled vegetables. The cryptid brought it up to her nose and sniffed it carefully and her reaction was immediate, nose scrunching up in what looked very much like disgust.
Juno blinked at that.
Was she a carnivore?
Then again, she had eaten that sandwich out of the rubbish the night before, and that thing had mostly been bread and vegetables with just a bit of meat inside. Maybe she just didn’t like these vegetables. Or maybe she didn’t like them grilled. It was entirely possible that her tastes were very specific.
The wolf-woman turned the vegetable over in her fingers, sniffed it one more time like she was hoping the smell might somehow improve, and then set it back down on the plate with clear disinterest.
Eventually Juno realised something slightly embarrassing.
At some point she had stopped eating her own meal entirely and was now just sitting there staring at the wild woman while she ate.
She blinked and looked down at her plate, suddenly aware that she had been caught up in the moment like someone watching an extremely strange nature documentary.
The cryptid finished chewing the last piece of meat and glanced back toward her again.
Juno, acting mostly on instinct and not much thought at all, gave her a small friendly smile, then lifted her hand and waved.
The furry ears on either side of the cryptid’s head suddenly straightened upright, and her whole body tensed as she hunched down slightly, looking like a startled animal that had just heard an unfamiliar sound in the forest.
Juno instantly froze in place, suddenly very aware that maybe sudden movements had not been the best idea.
For a few seconds neither of them moved. Then, very slowly, the strange woman lifted one of her hands. Her clawed fingers moved a little awkwardly as she attempted to mimic the motion Juno had just made. The wave was clumsy and hesitant, like someone copying something they had seen only once and were not entirely sure they understood, which maybe it was.
Juno stared wide-eyed at the attempt.
The moment it was done, the cryptid immediately turned and slipped back into the forest with a sudden burst of speed, disappearing between the trees so quickly that the bushes barely had time to rustle behind her.