My inner werewolfette was left baying at the moon, pawing at the earth for the cosmic, the glorious, the fiery orange of those harvest orbs buried deep in memory. It was not to be – city haunts were found wanting: I should have headed for higher ground where the hunting was better…
ACROSS THE BORED 
Thanks for the warning!
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Hehehe – you’re welcome! I’ll bet the wildlife in your neighbourhood was on the prowl too ….
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Yes, she was.
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😸
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