The automated sliding doorways hissed open, and a blast of icy air swept into the foyer, nerve-racking the quiet hum of the medical institution. Julie Thompson glanced up from her bureaucracy, anticipating to peer a late-night customer—or possibly an emergency affected person. What she noticed as an alternative made her freeze.
Status on the front used to be a bull moose. Snow clung to its huge body, and its antlers stretched extensive, just about scraping the highest of the doorframe. The room fell silent, the standard bustle of the medical institution changed through the low rumble of the moose’s heavy respiring.
Its darkish, clever eyes scanned the gap prior to touchdown on Julie. It didn’t panic, didn’t bolt. As an alternative, it took a planned step ahead, as though it had include a function—one Julie couldn’t but perceive.
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