Little Goat Mountain the poem that took place of a mountain

For the second time now he'd seen her crash to the ground, though the current fall seemed just a bit more severe than the previous. Several steps had been taken backwards, distancing himself some more until she'd come to a complete stop. Several seconds were spent just watching her, brows pinched together. He couldn't see her breathing, so when she hadn't gotten up, he'd assumed something had happened. Curious and confused, he'd asked, "Are you okay?" Moving towards her to inspect the body, he'd lowered his head down to get a closer look, but hadn't been able to do so far very long. Footfalls pulled his attention away from the woman and towards an approaching male, but he'd yet to move back to his original spot.

"I didn't do this," he'd said, looking back towards the heap of a wolf. "She fell." He wasn't entirely wrong, but also hadn't shared the entire story. Having not seen the other prior to his approach, he'd naught the slightest of clues that his stunt had been witnessed.