Following the Blood Trail
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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
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