Bitterroot Valley Enter, Pursued by a Memory

Her voice was further, now, and Barret scoffed, but otherwise did not comment on the quite obvious cheating. He'd confront her when he caught her, because, call him proud, but no matter how far she got, he would catch up with her eventually. A twig cracked. He hummed. Stretched his forelegs.
And she said that the outlaw could begin counting, so, without any further acknowledgement, he did: One, he started, a grin still upon his face as he did. He knew, now, that she was probably running like her life was dependant on it. Two, he continued. Voice projecting, so that she may continue to hear him. Something of this 'game' made his heart thump hard in his chest. Excitement. Instinct. Three, rolled his voice.
The closer he got, the more he battled the urge to stand and run. Four... the word was drawn out, now. Much louder than before. He would wait a moment before announcing the last second. See just how far she got.