It was a simple camping trip, that’s all it was supposed to be. Led by your uncle, in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness.

They hadn’t been violent at first. They had simply watched. In hindsight, it was obvious they were trying to scare you off, get you out of their woods. They hadn’t wanted to get violent, but when your uncle shot that bullet, it was all they needed.

One of the smaller ones was carrying you, maybe that meant it was younger. You were thrown over its shoulder like a sack of potatoes as it carried you deeper and deeper through the trees.