That couldn’t have been a coincidence. He waited a few seconds, then tried again, angling his path toward the ridge that led back to the cabin. Another bark—louder, more urgent. He stopped dead in his tracks.
“Are you serious right now?” he muttered. The walrus had paused again, looking back at him, waiting. This was ridiculous. He was letting a walrus tell him where to go? But when he tried to walk away a third time, the bark came again—followed by a louder, guttural grunt that echoed across the flat ice.