Somehow Natalie couldn’t shake the vague feeling of being watched, and kept peeking up over them into the trees. Instinct, she supposed, committing the act of pleasure outdoors, though they hadn’t seen a soul. She was too engrossed in her man for her momentary glances to distract her. The deep orchestra of crickets resounded from the trees, interrupted only by random skitterings in the bushes, undoubtedly little mammals running about on their little night hunts. Every now and then she caught sight of tiny little glowing red dots out of the corner of her eye, certainly these same animals wondering what these sounds were coming from the bank.
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