Phantom Hollow capture the erymanthian boar

for a while, there is only the feeling of what could be described as zen within ingram as he walks deeper into the hollow, nearing it's proverbial beating heart.

a duck beneath a particularly long tendril of climbing moss; the damp earthy scent punctured by the enticing scent that he knows too well.

his steps slow to a cease, temporarily unable to discern if it was a scent haunting him or real.

the woman comes into his view not soon after, answering all unspoken questions.

real.

a flare of his nostrils comes seconds before the low, crooning chuff that leaves ingram's lips.