Acting on instincts

Ben swung his legs out of bed and walked down the stairs, the floorboards groaning faintly under his weight. He instinctively reached for the rake leaning against the hallway wall, the same one he had used earlier to clean the sheep barn. His grip tightened around the worn handle, palms sweaty. Not only had the noise woken him, but living out here, isolated in the woods, meant wildlife problems were never far away. He had learned that the hard way.
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