He wallowed for what felt like days, when in reality time dredged by far slower than he was aware. A handful of quiet hours slid by him as he lay there, alone and in need, before a voice broke through the stillness and roused him. The sound of it made him simultaneously excited and nervous. Hesitant as he was, Tiarnan was hopeful that whoever was nearby could be of some use—even to just point him in the right direction so he could get home. A thought occurred to him as he rose to shaky limbs: when had the mountain become home? He hadn't exactly lived there long. The thought fell from his mind when he saw her. A pearly white silhouette against the dark of the mountain.
Bazi?
The boy rasped with a parched tongue, and before she could confirm herself, he was jogging out of hiding and towards her. The beaming glow of her fur led him away from the tangled roots and dried summer grasses, and he came upon her in a flash that could have been misconstrued as an attack. Bazi!
He chortled a second time, feeling far more mirthful now that he had found a familiar face.