Saturday Morning October 14th, 2025. Eveheart Farmland, Cattlecove, WI.

  “Yea, that is your bad. You know to watch where you’re going. You’ve been running the woods with me since you were a toddler, Andre. You’re above this.”

  Andre sat up, spine straightened purely by the force of anger. “Mom— what are you talking about? We’re sprinting through a forest barefoot! Why do you have to be so spartan all the time?”

  “…..is that racist?”

  Andre looked at his mother plainly. Her skin was losing its bronze tan as winter came in heavy. She was pale and it only made her green eyes and freckles pop more as they danced across her long beakish nose.

  “As a white woman, you’re pulling the race card on me?” Andre asked.

  “As your mother— who is Greek, I’m asking you to stand.” She said firmly, promptly changing the subject. Her accent was coming in. Like the winter winds.

  “Mom— my foot—“

  Something hissed viciously in the distance, sending icy chills up Andre’s spine.

  “Azlan, on your feet now.” His mother said.

  Azlan. His birth name. How they got from Azlan to Andre he never really knew, but what he did know was that when she used his birth name, the circumstances were severe.

  Andre got up before he even noticed, having no problem standing on his torn up toe. The nail hung off completely.

  “Was that—“

  His mother— Cora, shushed him with a raised hand as she stood in front of him.

  They didn’t have any weapons— they were barely wearing clothes. Fighting off a mountain lion didn’t sound very plausible. Then again, he’d seen her lift a truck’s backend out of a ditch alone.

  Cora was strong.

  Andre didn’t feel so confident as he saw the shape move in the shadows of the forest. It sulked low to the ground, smooth and fluid in motion like a serpent. He could barely hear its paws padding over the fallen leaves. But he could see the light reflect off its greenish yellow eyes. He could see that same light reflect off its fangs pinked by blood and yellowed by age.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  His knees weakened. He froze in that way you do when you’re too scared to run or fight. The unwilling freeze as a result of every other option exhausting on the thought alone.

  “AHHHHGH!” His mother yelled and stomped her feet like some old warrior.

  The cat hissed and ran around them a little faster.

  Cora didn’t let up. She got louder. She got so loud Andre’s ears stung.

  The cougar abandoned running around them and jumped out of the bushes, landing right in front of them. Muscles flexed. Fangs flashed. Eyes blazing with nothing— cementing the realness of nature. There was nothing abnormal or magical on display. Just two humans facing a true predator.

  The cougar hissed and took a step forward, fanning and slamming its front-legs against the ground.

  Cora did the same.

  The cougar stopped and recoiled in what looked like horror as it yowled and ducked under her gaze.

  All he saw was her back. Just like the runs, only she was much closer. And he was less exhausted. But, he still faced the same hallucination. He watched her skin ripple over the flexion and shift of her muscles. He watched her dark curly mane of hair split with golden strands even in the shadows of the forest.

  Cora took a deep breath.

  “Find your meal elsewhere, sister.” She said.

  Andre almost missed it due to how many octaves her voice dropped.

  The cougars ears flattened as she turned and ran with her tail low.

  Andre stood watching his mother and the fleeing lion.

  For a moment nothing happened. For a long moment at that.

  Then, she turned, and he faced the mother he always knew— which wasn’t saying much.

  She had her usual harsh expression, even as she approached him and put her hands on his shoulders while studying his face, “Are you ok? How do you feel?”

  “I’m good….. I’m…. Not cougar-breakfast. So, I’m good.”

  “Good.” Cora said, “You’re too strong for that anyway.”

  Andre stared at her, smiling in discomfort.

  “What? Why is your face doing that?” Cora asked, tightening her grip on his arms.

  “…..uhhh… you can talk to cougars?”

  Cora blinked in silence for a moment, “Yes. I usually only do that at bars on date night, but there are exceptions to everything.”

  Andre clenched his jaw and shook out of her grip, “Mom….. what the f—“

  “Language.”

  “WHY would you make that joke right now? That was trash!”

  “Yea, so was your run.” Cora playfully punched Andre in the stomach and almost made him spit up his dinner from last night.

  “AUCK!” He coughed, “That’s not even true.” He said upon standing up and following after her— at a quick pace, “I saw your watch— and I know how to track miles. We just ran six miles in eighteen minutes. We just did a ten-k in under twenty minutes.”

  “You’re destined for more.” Cora said without looking back.

  “Mom, the world record for the ten-k is twenty three minutes….” Andre said.

  Cora stopped for a moment before starting her walk again, “Do it again or it never happened.”

  “I’ve been doing it for a week now.”

  “Shut-up.” Cora said casually.

  “Yes, because that’s totally how you address your son and his Olympic level talents at age sixteen.”

  Andre kept after his mother, hobbling along and never slowing thanks to the mental image of a mountain Lion at his back.