The trail curved into a wall of blackberry brambles, their canes heavy and tangled, catching the last of the evening light in a web of green and rust. Petunia had been leading—she always led—her massive black body moving with the quiet confidence of a creature who knew every inch of this land. Then she stopped. Bob nearly walked into her hindquarters. He caught himself, hands out, and looked down. Her ears were flat. Not alert-flat, but pressed tight against her skull like she was trying to make herself smaller. Her whole body had gone rigid, one front paw lifted, hovering above the dirt. "Pet?" She didn't look at him. Her eyes stayed locked on a gap in the brush where the shadows pooled thicker than they should have. Bob followed her gaze. There was nothing there. Just the usual: dry leaves, a fallen branch, the faint scent of dust and wild mint. But Petunia's growl started low, deep in her chest, a vibration Bob felt through the soles of his shoes. It wasn't the growl she used for coyotes or strangers at the gate. This was different. This was worried. She whined. A single, uncertain sound that cut through the evening quiet. Bob's stomach tightened. He reached down and placed his hand on the thick fur of her neck. She was trembling. "What is it?" he whispered. The brush rustled. Not wind—the leaves moved against the breeze, a deliberate shift, like something had turned to face them. Petunia backed up a step, pressing her weight against Bob's legs, and he felt it too: a pressure in the air, a hum just below hearing, the kind of silence that comes before a storm. Bob's hand went to his pocket. He'd found something that morning—a small disc, cold and smooth, etched with symbols he didn't recognize. It had been warm when he picked it up. Now it pulsed against his thigh, a slow, rhythmic beat that matched something in the brush. Petunia whined again, louder this time. "I know," Bob said. "I feel it too." They stood there, boy and dog, as the light drained from the sky and the shadows in the gap grew deeper, waiting for whatever had noticed them to make the first move.