It was a misty but not necessarily miserable day on the inland South border of Wales. The conditions could have been better but it didn't stop Mike and his friends from entering the Forest of Dean. Every morning before school and every night afterwards the group would walk along the trails. Some, like Mike, took their dogs out for a walk; others just came along for the stroll.
Mike stayed at the back of the group, a small distance away from the others. He had brought Cato, his German Sheppard, with him. Cato was his first pet. They were like soul mates, with Mike raising him since he was a puppy. The two were never separated.
As they were walking Cato suddenly stopped. His ears pointing upwards, slowly moving from side to side.
"Cato. Cato. Come on. They are leaving without us." Urged Mike, pulling at the lead.
Cato lifted his ears one more time to listen before padding softly back to Mike.
The dog stopped once again, but this time Mike heard it too - a snapping of twigs from within the mist. Cato crouched low, snarling, but stood in front of Mike, protecting him.
"Who's there?" he asked, holding his breath.
There was no reply. Looking down the path he could see his friends getting further and further away.
"Come on Cato. Let's go" he said, giving one last pull on the lead, eager to get away from here.
Cato didn't budge. He gave a loud snarl and got a low, threatening growl in response. There was a thud, followed quickly by some more snapping of twigs. Cato backed up and whimpered before turning and running into the forest, dragging Mike along with him.