His heart clenched. It was the white moose calf—tiny, trembling, fur stained with dirt. A crude metal cage pinned it in place. The pit smelled of fear and faint sedation chemicals. Around the calf, other moose lay trapped or snared, eyes wide with terror and pain.
Overwhelmed, Wade scrambled to free the nearest snare, hands slick with sweat. But the mechanism was sturdy, locks designed for brute strength. The moose behind him let out a guttural moan, limping closer. Its gaze flicked between the pit and Wade. He felt its desperation like a physical force.