His head swam with a single train of thoughts: There’s something alive down there. The wolf knows. It’s waiting for—or daring me to act. He paced up and down, caught between dread and duty. If he delayed too long, it could be too late for the wolf and whatever life it guarded.
His resolve hardened. He went home quickly to pack gloves, a headlamp, and a small folding spade into his satchel. He told himself it was a precaution, but deep down he knew—he couldn’t stand by anymore.