Grain Wagon Hunting Blind Novels & Stories

"Yes. The ridge overlooks the approach, but the dip behind the old willow is hidden. A small force could conceal itself there." "Correct," Lucas said, his tone that of an instructor confirming a student's correct answer. "It is a blind spot." Jaren's jaw tightened. "Then why is it there? The route is supposed to be optimal." "It is optimal," Lucas replied. He picked up his quill and turned the parchment over. With quick, sure strokes, he began to sketch a map of the western sector. "The blind spot is a calculated risk. The terrain beyond the willow is marsh. Impassable for more than two wolves moving slowly. A 'small force,' as you noted."

I stop running, he has a point aside from Stacy and her friend we haven’t run into anyone. I crouch down and open my senses listening with my hybrid hearing, I can hear fighting off in the far distance in both directions but nothing close to us. I decide to use my hawk eyes to look for the boar. “What are you doing.” Blake asks. “Shh I’m looking.” I say and my eyes cloud over green while I look through the eyes of a hawk. “Found it.” I say snapping back to myself. “It’s by the lake.” I tell him and we take off in a sprint towards the lake.

"The northern elders don't give a damn about who’s down here. If Vance signed the vacancy papers, they're already moving the grain wagons toward the ridge." "Vance wouldn't move the wagons without his ledger clerks," I said, my mind trying to piece together the layout of the lower logs while my lower body continued to throb with a dull, heavy ache from the King's final thrusts. "The eastern clerks don't know the trail through the marsh. If they take the long road by the tanneries, the vanguard horses will be stuck in the peat before the second watch finishes."

Forty seconds between the eastern corner wolf completing his pass and the replacement arriving from the inner yard. The grain store was empty when I arrived. The note I slipped through the supply channel two hours ago specified the actual meeting location. The grain store was compromised. Rowan's wolves had been to it. The scent markers they left would have been identified by Ashmoor's people within hours. The actual location was the old hunting shelter half a mile north of the grain store through the tree line. A lamp burned inside,I pushed the door open and two wolves emerged.

Blaine usually went out with a group of five to go hunting to bring the max amount of food back, however today him and the missus got into a big fight, so he left by himself. I watched as he traveled to the east end of the forest. It had the most game over here, most days we had rabbit, some good days we’d eat deer, elk, and buck. Allison helped by bringing some chickens, so we aren’t short on much. I sat 200 yards back, and watched through my scope. My 308 was my best. I never missed a shot with it. I watched as he sat still waiting for the doe to cross his sights one more time.

I need to find her, but hunting blind won’t help. I needed to take a rest after driving for so long. Bars are where people talk, where whispers float on liquor breath. I spot a neon light flickering ahead that identifies a bar. “Midnight Howl Bar.” Sounds like a spot wolves might be, or at least humans who don’t mind the wild side. I pull over, kill the engine, and step out.

Then the scouts saw the space he had made. “Rogue team, take the rear. Moonridge, clear the grain sacks. Fae, keep the fire from the road,” Karl said. “Choose your footing. Tell me if it fails.” No command pressed through the air. The teams moved because they had heard the work and knew where their hands mattered. A wolf crawled from beneath the axle with blood on one sleeve. Another was dragged free by two rogues. Karl held the wagon until the last trapped survivor reached the ditch beside the road. Only then did he lower the frame into the mud.

They navigated the iron cable car down the vertical cliff face to reach the lower staging ground, where Lucas stepped forward to haul open the heavy rear door of his iron-plated wagon. Feigning total blindness to the gesture, Laney hailed a passing public transport and pulled her frame inside the cabin before the door slammed shut. Watching the vehicle race down the dirt track, Lucas stood utterly helpless. He adjusted his spectacles with a sharp snap and climbed into the rear cabin of his private transport. The exact moment his weight settled into the leather bench, his communication stone began vibrating violently. “Greetings, Warlord Grant. My scouts reported your massive silhouette is cu

He gestured with his chin toward the iron weapons rack while pulling his heavy tracking boots tight. We dropped out of the secret hatch beneath the market, two shadows moving through the midnight frost without a sound. Kade carried his heavy, long-range iron-bow slung across his back, while my fingers wrapped around a customized silver-weighted hunting blade equipped with a bone guard. We tore through the pines toward the ancient Whitmoor ruins, our paws hitting the frozen dirt at blinding speed. We were already belly-down in the brush, our scents completely masked by the pine needles, when the heavy timber-frame of a dark gray RAM truck crunched over the frost, pinning itself right behind N

I asked. “Reinforce the blind spot near the south ridge trail,” Rylan said, pointing. “It’s too easy to slip through if someone knows the terrain.” “Does anyone know the terrain better than us?” I asked. A voice from the back piped up. “Well, that one time I got lost and ended up face-first in a thorn bush…” We all turned to see a shorter warrior, maybe twenty, with wild auburn curls and a grin too cocky for his size.