At dawn, he pulled on boots and took the forest path again. Mud clung to his steps, the river swollen and frothing. The wolf was still there, half-drenched, fur heavy with water. It swayed faintly on its legs but didn’t abandon its ground. Its endurance bordered on madness.
Adrian approached more closely than before, counting each step. Ten paces. Eight. The wolf’s ears twitched, lips curling back. Adrian stopped, heart pounding. He crouched, as if to show deference. For a breathless moment, the animal held his gaze, then turned its head back toward the earth.