He made good time at first. As the voices dwindled in to silence, Amon could only follow his gut when navigating the terrain. The land grew more difficult to traverse as he left the lakeside, weaving between the trees and then along a natural corridor. The hills grew rocky and uneven, and yet they seemed to constantly slope upward, telling Amon that he was going in the correct direction. It took a couple of hours for the man to hike closer, which surprised him (either because he didn't think he had become geriatric yet, or he hadn't anticipated the incline). When he came to a halt, he could only hope that this was the right area. If he had made a wrong turn, then Amon would have surely made a fool out of himself - pledging to aid these strangers, and then not sticking around. For a few moments the beast considered calling out again, but out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw movement - and upon turning to face it, the man took on his usual hunch.