Deepwood Weald Manaʻo ʻole

He found himself pausing, lifting his head to let out a long howl. His voice was deep, nearly booming through the weald. It spoke of his search, asked for the response of someone familiar.

He was growing tired, limbs aching. Soon he would need to rest. But how could he?

Each time he hesitated, each moment he remained still, she would only move further away.