Little Goat Mountain the poem that took place of a mountain

Given her assumed inclination to speak the night before, for her to flee had not been expected. He'd kept still as an answer was waited on, moving neither forward nor backwards. He couldn't decide if he was actually curious to find out her name, or if he was just looking for a reason to keep the conversation going—or maybe his reason was neither of those, and just because he wanted a reason to not return to the woods just yet. The sunlight was a pain, yes, but the memories of Wolfskull were far worse; even still, if that turned out to be the case, it was an unconscious decision.

Rather than an answer having been given, however, he'd noticed a shift and then the other sprinting away. A moment was taken to realize what had just happened, to register that she'd run away from him. At first, he'd just stood there, squinting in her direction. After considering his options is when he'd taken off after her, his pace having started off slow and cautious, before shifting into a sprint of his own.

It'd taken a bit of time, his own hesitance at moving quickly whilst partially blind having slowed him down, but he'd managed to eventually catch up with her. Past her he'd gone, even, coming to a stop in the dead center of her path in an attempt to make her stop.