Beyond him lay a small, boggy lake, a few patches of brush along its edge. There was the scent of decay, and Rich’s nostrils flared in disgust. His feet slowed just as one of the bushes moved. He jerked to a stop and his knee twisted in his haste. A stone’s throw away, a grizzly bear, interrupted from its feast of carrion, stood up on hind legs.
-Danika Stone
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