Little Goat Mountain the poem that took place of a mountain

No.

It was quiet but it was a no. 

Ocra opened her mouth to speak but he continued, affirming it wasn’t him following her. The return of the question, however, put a smile on her face and she was going to chuckle up until he gave her another, harsher question than the first.

Are you working for him?

What? she wanted to ask but her dark olive eyes locked upon his features, trying to find the answers to her questions before she can ask them. That his stoic expression will change to a laugh but it never does. Fuck, he’s serious.

“I’m not following you… you’re the one who approached me. Twice!” she said as if he couldn’t hear her. “Who is him?” Ocra quickly scanned the area for someone else to pop out and explain everything. There was only the two of them in the small clearing with the forest on one side and a mountain on the other and the both of them, ultimately, traveling the exact opposite way. They’d have to cross one another at some point and for a few seconds, she cursed herself for not waking sooner.