Feral by Julia Gabriel Page A

In reality, Julianne liked people well enough. She had friends, boyfriends, coworkers—people she treasured. It was just that she found being around people—having to make conversation, trying to figure out their games—enervating. She found her energy, her center, in the forest.
    She walked for three hours that day before she came upon the lean-to. The three-sided wooden hut looked like as good a spot as any to sit, rest and eat the sandwich and apple she'd stuffed into her jacket that morning. It was June and cool. The forest was damp, but not unpleasantly so. The western side of the park was a rainforest, though one populated with spruce, fir and cedar trees. Julianne hoped to one day go to the Amazon.
    When she finished her sandwich, she balled up the plastic baggie and put it back in her pocket. She was about to bite into her crisp, red apple when she heard a rustling in the bushes.
    Now Julianne spent enough time in the forest to recognize the different varieties of bush rustling. Some rustlings were made by wind, others by small animals, still others by large animals. This was a large animal kind of rustling and Julianne looked up, expecting to see the tan hide of a deer.
    Instead, she looked up into the face of a person staring at her from around a large rhododendron. She froze, her lips open around the cool skin of the apple. It was a young man's face, maybe not older than she was, and covered with a patchy beard. His hair was long and tangled, with twigs and leaves sticking out of it. He wasn't wearing a shirt.
    Her first instinct was that this was a camper, taking a leak in a bush and being surprised by her. Then she noticed part of a bare leg through the dark green leaves. She followed the leg down to a bare foot. The man was entirely naked, it seemed.
    Julianne could barely breathe. Her mother had warned her this would happen one day. Her daughter would go off into the forest alone and be killed by an escaped inmate or deranged mental patient. 
    They stared at each other for a long minute, Julianne's eyes wide and dry in fright. She was trapped. This was it. Would anyone even find her body? By the time they did, she'd be nothing but dry white bones, easily mistaken for an animal. She tried to telepathically send a prayer up to the heavens, a last ditch effort.
    The man stepped out from behind the bush. Julianne didn't take her eyes off his face, but her peripheral vision took in the animal hide tied low around his hips. So he wasn't completely naked. Still, that was small comfort.
    "Who are you?" she whimpered. "Don't hurt me. Please," she whispered. The gung-ho park ranger-in-training in her was gone now, bolted back down the trail. What was left was a slight young woman in a decidedly precarious position. She had her phone with her, but the idea of bars out here was laughable.
    The man frowned. Julianne was close to tears now and growing lightheaded. She tried to breathe, but could only manage weak mewling gasps. He shook his head and made what sounded to Julianne like sad barking noises.
    Oh God, he's crazy. That was the last thought to pass through her mind before she fainted and fell back onto the floor of the lean-to.
    When she came to, it was late afternoon. The light in the sky was dimming. Her head throbbed painfully, but the floor of the lean-to felt soft and warm beneath her hair. She opened her eyes and found ... another pair of eyes, staring directly into hers. They were dark, bittersweet brown eyes.  Fear rippled through her as the situation dawned on her. Her head was in the naked man's lap.
    He stroked her hair gently, and a look of wonderment came over his face. He combed his fingers through her hair. He was young, that began to register in her foggy brain. His skin was pale, though not in a sickly way. He looked healthy, actually. His beard and hair were a dirty blonde, no pun intended. Though he didn't look all that dirty, she thought dimly, despite the foliage lodged in his tangled hair.