Eventually, the faint moonlight revealed a thinning in the trees. The moose led him into a small clearing, where pale beams spilled like a ghostly spotlight. Wade’s eyes adjusted, settling on an unexpected sight: a partially collapsed tent, its nylon walls slack as if abandoned in haste.
The air smelled of lingering smoke, and embers glowed faintly in a makeshift fire ring. Scattered gear littered the ground, hinting at a human presence not long gone. Among the debris, a tripod stood like a silent sentinel, a camera perched atop it.