Sleepy Fox Hollow Last long enough to go extinct,

Hope was a small candle nestled in the wind's claws. Some days it flickered so low one thought it was extinguished; other days, it roared to life in blazing orange.

Anselm ignored the little light of hope in his heart, making show of turning slowly around. He apprised his sodden counterpart. Hunting.

It was a small gesture, but it was a start.