Following the Blood Trail

When I was eight years old, I had just joined the Boy Scouts or Beaver Scouts,

as we call them in England. During a short camping trip, we stayed at a small

nature reserve outside my industrial hometown. Forest trails, a lake, scout lodges… the

whole thing felt massive to a kid my age. One early morning, before anyone else

woke up, I quietly slipped outside the lodge. It was cold, dark,

and we weren’t supposed to leave without an adult… but I really needed to pee.

That’s when I saw it. Near the picnic benches, standing perfectly

still in the morning mist, was a young deer a yearling calmly grazing as birds