Whitebark Stream Finally Free

He heard the almost inaudible creak in a log with weight placed on it. It sounded farther from his initial track of her location. 
She was still trying to leave. 

"Not that way. There's nothing but sludged mud. I came from that way. You won't have the strength to get out of the mud."

He didn't have to look her way. He remembered the direction she was trying to sneak to, and ironically it was where he came from. Again with trying to help a girl who was obviously not asking for it.

With a gesture of his thickly cloaked tail and his right ear, he pointed in the opposite direction, one a bit south of  his direction , but safe from what he remembered.

"There is a abandoned coyote den I had spent the night in. With it, I dug a cache and put in hare and two winter fowls. They're still fresh. It's as safe as it gets, because the previous owners are dead. If you want, take it. I'm not going back to it."

He gave her food. Shelter. Medicine. Care. And a choice to stay with him. Being a loner was no fun, nor was it safe. His sympathy only went so far, though. 

He turned his muzzle over his ethereal shoulder, and said,

"After you say the word, I will leave this entire vicinity, and I will never come back. You will be safe, if you stick to what little I taught you. Now, say goodbye and I'm gone forever."

Then he turned back to the river, awaiting that word.