By the second morning, the single calf’s behavior had turned deeply unsettling. Its muzzle was slightly raw from scraping continuously against the rough masonry, yet it refused to leave the wall even to sleep or drink.
Robert tried tying the animal to a heavy support post on the far side of the barn, hoping a few hours away would break the habit. Instead, the calf spent the entire day straining violently against the rope, eyes wide with panic, baying in distress as it stared fixedly at the dark corner.
Fearing the calf would injure itself, Robert unhitched the rope to inspect the wall up close. He crouched beside the targeted area, covering it with his hand—it was no larger than a hardcover book. Beneath his palm, the bricks felt strangely cool, slick, and slightly soft. The moment Robert pulled his hand away, the calf shoved its head beneath his arm, desperately returning its tongue to the damp brickwork.