He glanced over his shoulder more than once, imagining eyes in the darkness, judging him for this madness. The forest seemed charged, each silhouette of pine transformed into a looming presence.
Yet the moose plodded on, resolute, as though guided by some unspoken directive. Whenever it faltered, Wade found himself waiting, body taut with apprehension but heart soft with sympathy. He realized, with a sudden lurch of anxiety, that he had no idea how far they had come.