down. Then she went back to eating roast beef.
Kyle frowned but downed his own shot, then refilled the glasses.
Swallowing her food, Lisa waved her knife around. “A predator in a new territory generally choses to take things slow and learn the lay of the land. But really aggressive ones,” she paused to down another shot, “sometimes seek to dominate a new area through excessive boldness. This can backfire,” she said, pouring the next round “If the predator meets a nastier predator or fails to detect all the inherent dangers of the new zone, well, it can go badly for them.” She pounded down the third shot and then stood up, moving lithely over to the bar, where she procured two rock glasses.
“Let’s speed this up,” she said, pouring each rock glass full of vodka. “Sláinte, as a friend of mine would say,” she said, holding up her glass in challenge to Kyle, who was starting to look a tiny bit uncertain.
“Whoa there. That’s getting a touch serious,” Carl said, clearly concerned.
“It will be for someone,” Lisa said with a smile. Kyle clinked his glass against hers and then grimaced a bit when she tilted her head and drained it in one go. She raised her eyebrows at Kyle when she saw he still hadn’t swallowed his. With a shrug, he tipped his back and gamely slugged it down. She immediately refilled both glasses.
“Ah, is anyone else uncomfortable with this?” Dustin asked.
Rodney looked slightly in awe, his grin growing as he observed Kyle’s discomfort.
Lisa smiled and held up her glass. “In nature, gentlemen, you have to take time to truly observe with all your senses. Sometimes, what looks like prey is actually far more dangerous than first glances might imply. For instance, a whitetail buck, like most animals, is generally only dangerous when cornered or surprised at close range. But let’s say we transported one of you hunters and your stand directly to Africa and a waterbuck happens by. You decide to shoot it, but only wound it. It takes off and you follow, hot on its trail. You take twenty steps into the thick bush and suddenly find yourself impaled on almost three feet of horn because you assumed it would react like a whitetail when instead of fleeing, it turned to confront its attacker.”
“Let me guess… you’re the waterbuck,” Rodney said.
“She’s the wolf that finishes off the waterbuck,” Shorty said suddenly. The others all looked at him, surprised. Lisa narrowed her eyes at him, but he didn’t meet her gaze as he stood to take his plate to the pass-through counter.
“You’re mixing the wrong carnivores on the wrong continents,” Hutch said.
“Doesn’t matter. Kyle’s still going to be hurting in the morning,” the guide said.
The others turned to Kyle, who was holding the back of a chair and wobbling in place. His eyes had gone glassy and unfocused until he became aware that people were paying attention. At that point, he made a sloppy waving motion, as if to brush away their concerns. Unfortunately, taking away one hand from his support chair unbalanced him and he started to lean alarmingly far in Rodney’s direction.
Grin even wider, Rodney shoved him back upright, then pulled out his own chair and guided the younger man into it.
“We done?” Lisa asked Kyle. He frowned and started to shake his head but the motion almost took him out of his sitting position. His frown turned to alarm and he visibly stilled himself, looking like a man with his foot on a pressure-sensitive land mine. “We’re done,” she answered herself, getting up and taking her own completely empty plate to the pass through and handing it to the woman who was curiously watching the dining room drama. “I’m Lisa,” she introduced herself. The older woman frowned. “I’m Mrs. Dox,” she said, turning abruptly away and heading to the big
Kyle frowned but downed his own shot, then refilled the glasses.
Swallowing her food, Lisa waved her knife around. “A predator in a new territory generally choses to take things slow and learn the lay of the land. But really aggressive ones,” she paused to down another shot, “sometimes seek to dominate a new area through excessive boldness. This can backfire,” she said, pouring the next round “If the predator meets a nastier predator or fails to detect all the inherent dangers of the new zone, well, it can go badly for them.” She pounded down the third shot and then stood up, moving lithely over to the bar, where she procured two rock glasses.
“Let’s speed this up,” she said, pouring each rock glass full of vodka. “Sláinte, as a friend of mine would say,” she said, holding up her glass in challenge to Kyle, who was starting to look a tiny bit uncertain.
“Whoa there. That’s getting a touch serious,” Carl said, clearly concerned.
“It will be for someone,” Lisa said with a smile. Kyle clinked his glass against hers and then grimaced a bit when she tilted her head and drained it in one go. She raised her eyebrows at Kyle when she saw he still hadn’t swallowed his. With a shrug, he tipped his back and gamely slugged it down. She immediately refilled both glasses.
“Ah, is anyone else uncomfortable with this?” Dustin asked.
Rodney looked slightly in awe, his grin growing as he observed Kyle’s discomfort.
Lisa smiled and held up her glass. “In nature, gentlemen, you have to take time to truly observe with all your senses. Sometimes, what looks like prey is actually far more dangerous than first glances might imply. For instance, a whitetail buck, like most animals, is generally only dangerous when cornered or surprised at close range. But let’s say we transported one of you hunters and your stand directly to Africa and a waterbuck happens by. You decide to shoot it, but only wound it. It takes off and you follow, hot on its trail. You take twenty steps into the thick bush and suddenly find yourself impaled on almost three feet of horn because you assumed it would react like a whitetail when instead of fleeing, it turned to confront its attacker.”
“Let me guess… you’re the waterbuck,” Rodney said.
“She’s the wolf that finishes off the waterbuck,” Shorty said suddenly. The others all looked at him, surprised. Lisa narrowed her eyes at him, but he didn’t meet her gaze as he stood to take his plate to the pass-through counter.
“You’re mixing the wrong carnivores on the wrong continents,” Hutch said.
“Doesn’t matter. Kyle’s still going to be hurting in the morning,” the guide said.
The others turned to Kyle, who was holding the back of a chair and wobbling in place. His eyes had gone glassy and unfocused until he became aware that people were paying attention. At that point, he made a sloppy waving motion, as if to brush away their concerns. Unfortunately, taking away one hand from his support chair unbalanced him and he started to lean alarmingly far in Rodney’s direction.
Grin even wider, Rodney shoved him back upright, then pulled out his own chair and guided the younger man into it.
“We done?” Lisa asked Kyle. He frowned and started to shake his head but the motion almost took him out of his sitting position. His frown turned to alarm and he visibly stilled himself, looking like a man with his foot on a pressure-sensitive land mine. “We’re done,” she answered herself, getting up and taking her own completely empty plate to the pass through and handing it to the woman who was curiously watching the dining room drama. “I’m Lisa,” she introduced herself. The older woman frowned. “I’m Mrs. Dox,” she said, turning abruptly away and heading to the big
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