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Not entirely innawoods, but still
>on my way home, walking on path to house
>suddenly, large as fuck dead Scots Pine lying straight across path
>beaver bitemarks on it
>set groceries and stuff on the side and see if I can move it
>aint budging
>go home, grab axe, get back, start chopping
After a good twenty minutes I finally get it into manageable pieces and roll it off the road
>next morning
>aspen with beaver bites on it lying across the path
>mfw
This fucking beaver, man. He tried climbing onto my boat when I was out fishing once.
Guess he was just tired since he was just hanging off the side for a while.
