Second and last in the Man-Eating Muskadore series.
If I never see another one, I'll die happy. Those things are vengeful SOB's - at times, I thought I was cracking up, always on the run from them. But early this morning, I packed a shovel in my car, and headed out to the old barn near Carp, where my dad Wib fought and killed one over fifty years ago. Maybe I was lucky, or maybe I saw evidence of Divine intervention today...I'll leave it to the reader to decide.
All I know now is what it feels like to be a man, at last. Proud. Confident. No more irrational fears of injury and death. It's no big deal to other people, but when you reach mature adulthood - manhood, in my case - you can just let go of so much you had needlessly been carrying, put your feet up, and have a beer with the top off.
You can make use of your adversities, or you can hide from them, and never become a mature adult. I'm sure everyone can agree to that.
Strictly speaking, no adult-only content, but maybe parental guidance would be an idea for younger kids.
