Little Goat Mountain the poem that took place of a mountain

He’d begun to reach for an explanation that would prove she had been following him and she scoffed once he reached the end of his list. She didn’t know many ways to tell him no that would stop him from searching for more reasons, no matter how unthinkable, and Ocra was left standing there floundering for an answer. Had her obliviousness been enough to convince him? 

She took a step back, now actively searching for a way out of the situation. Her shoulder still ached a little that might slow down her running but pushing past him and sprinting her way through the clearing was really the safest way out. If she went back the way she’d come, she would be faced with the mountain and slopes she most definitely hadn’t been prepared for. The forest ahead of them had mostly been left unexplored and for all she knew, he was more than familiar with their surroundings and she was left in the dark.

“I don’t know a Cicero,” she told him. She even whined, hoping to deter the blame somewhere else. He didn’t want anything to do with her last night and now he won’t leave her alone and she wanted nothing more than to be left alone. “Just… leave me alone,” she added, took a deep breath, and begun a wide circle around the pale male to get out of it.