Sixth sense

The Hound is coming
Hear the Hound!
Teeth bared
Hunters eyes
He'll run you down
He's coming now
He's got your trail
Got your line

Mr HH fell off his bike last week. I knew he did. It wasn't even that he was late home; one minute everything was normal and then the next I just knew he'd come a cropper, as they say. He was ok, just bruised, but as he eventually turned up on the drive I could hear him telling the children of his accident and momentarily I marvelled at my apparent psychic abilities.

Today on the moor we trod the same path we often do. We've been there 100, maybe 200 or 300 times. (It's why all my blips look the same, ha!) Today, however, I was overcome with a deeply uncomfortable feeling. I paid attention and tethered Hound back up moments before something flashed down the path ahead, over the wall and up the steep bank of the moor to the side.

Hounds are bred to work independently, and they're bred for pursuit. If you've not got 'em, you can expect to next see 'em a few days later... in a different county...

I know I've blipped this angle before, but today I tried to capture the 'wild' that Hound was exuding...