The moose stood still, its large, dark eyes locked onto Jacob’s. There was something intense, almost urgent, in its gaze. Then, without warning, it took a few staggered steps toward the trees. Jacob tensed, confused. The moose turned back to him, nostrils flaring, ears twitching. It was waiting for him.
A strange chill crawled up Jacob’s spine. Was it calling him? The moose swished its antlers toward the dense forest, a slow, deliberate motion. Then it did it again—walking forward, stopping, looking back. The realization hit him like a jolt of electricity. It wasn’t just moving—it wanted him to follow.