Wildcat among the bluebells
It was time to get back. I stopped to look once more at the view before starting to make my way down the track and into the beech wood again. The sun was still high in the sky, and shone through the bright new leaves, their brilliant green competing with the glow of the bluebells on the floor of the wood. The warmth of the afternoon had brought out their intoxicating scent.
There was no-one about – at least not now. I thought I had heard an odd cry earlier; it might have been a bird, or just someone fooling around, but whatever was, nobody had appeared.
As I approached the gate at the edge of the wood, and just where another path joined mine, I heard running feet and turned to see two boys heading towards me, their arms flailing, their mouths agape. I stopped as they came to a skidding halt in front of me, both gabbling frantically.
“Whoa, one at a time, kids. What’s wrong?”
“There’s a man!”
“He’s hurt bad – he can’t talk – he won’t wake up!”
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