Steeling his nerves, he kept moving, matching the moose’s slow but persistent pace. The underbrush snagged at his clothes, low-hanging branches scratched his arms, but he didn’t stop. He had come this far. The moose had trusted him. He owed it to both of them to see this through.
After what felt like hours, the moose finally stopped. Its massive frame trembled with exertion as it stood near a towering rock formation, its breath coming in sharp huffs. Jacob halted behind the rock, his pulse erratic.