He could still hear his old grandfather's voice in his ear, repeating over and over in his hoarse tone ‘never forget rule number nineteen’. The memory almost drowned out the current sound, the low rumbling growls and yelps of the coyotes as they were somewhere not far behind. His ripped jeans cut to the knee on his left leg, sticky and wet from the blood the beasts now trailed and it hurt more than anything he had ever felt in his young life. The shadows of the forest were growing longer and wider as the sun was setting in the distance, he would not make it back to the road tonight. In his right hand he held a tight grip on the handle of the six inch knife, rule nineteen, never go anywhere without a knife.
= First time doing this...thought because I gave her the idea I should participate. Click the title to take you to the challenge blog :)