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He pulled a bandage from his pocket.

I stared at it. “Do you carry those now?”

He nodded.

“Because of me?”

Another nod.

That was both touching and mildly accusatory. I accepted the bandage. “Thank you.”

Caldwell smiled. When Julie called across the yard, telling him he needed to come home, he didn’t turn around immediately.

“Be more careful,” he said softly. His voice was slightly rough from disuse, but crystal clear.

My heart gave a fierce double-thump. I kept my tone completely normal so I wouldn’t startle him, though I wanted to pull him into a bear hug. He reserved his words for those closest to him.

“I will, buddy. Promise.”

He squeezed my wrist, then ran back to the house.

I was in the process of peeling the paper from the bandage when my phone rang.

Aunt Karen.

I considered letting it go to voicemail, but she lived close enough to walk to my house in two minutes and possessed both excellent hearing and no hesitation about locating me in person.

I answered. “Hello, Aunt Karen.”

“Have you seen the article?” As usual, she didn’t bother to give a greeting. Karen didn’t believe in wasting time on social conventions when indignation was available.

“Which article?”

“The one about the wildlife corridor.”

I pressed the bandage over my scrape. “I have not.”

“Of course you haven’t.”

“Good morning to you, too.”

She sighed. “The county is rolling back buffer protections around Millstone Wildlife Park.”

That got my attention.

Millstone sat several miles north of us, covering hundreds of acres of forest, wetlands, and protected migration land. To humans, it was just another park. For local shifter packs, it provided enough isolated space to run without ending up photographed by a trail camera or struck by somebody’s SUV.

“What protections?” I asked.

“The development setbacks along the western boundary. They want to reduce them to allow commercial construction.”

I looked out at the ridge. “How close?”

“Close enough that we’ll have parking lots beside the lower trail within five years. They’re calling it economic revitalization.” Her disgust was clear.

“That sounds bad.”

“It is bad. The runoff alone could damage the wetlands. Increased lighting will disrupt nocturnal animals, the access road cuts through deer movement routes, and more people will mean more cameras.”