‘I’m here,’ I called out. Aliana came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around her body, running a brush through her hair. ‘Let me do that?�... I asked. Aliana sat on the end of the bed, and I pulled the brush through her hair. I always enjoy brushing her hair. It looked like stirred honey that flowed and ebbed around her ears and down her cheeks then softly settled on her shoulders. ‘Ooh, that could put me to sleep,’ she said as she closed her eyes. I continued to stroke her hair, pulling it. She wasn’t much of a drinker. She gulped down another glass of whiskey. Then she passed out. It took the old man ten minutes to stop the bleeding. He got some fishing line and sewed the gashes up. Even in her sleep, she moaned as he sewed her wounds closed. She woke up in strange surroundings. Her legs hurt like hell and when she rubbed her hand on them, she could feel the stitches. Then she remembered the bear and the old man. She looked around the small cabin but he was nowhere in sight. She. More

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