Farmer Finds Missing Horse After 8 Months—When He Gets Closer, A Chill Runs Down His Spine
Were the trees… closer than before? The thought unsettled him. He pushed forward, calling again, but his voice cracked, raw with frustration. Above, the thin crescent of moonlight barely broke through the canopy, spilling only the faintest silver glow on the pathless ground.
George stopped and rubbed his face with shaking hands. He couldn’t lose his head now—not when every second counted. But the exhaustion was making his mind sluggish, blurring his focus.
He tilted his head back, squinting at the dark tangle of branches overhead. Was that the same patch of sky he’d seen earlier? He couldn’t tell. The woods had a way of folding in on themselves, turning every direction into a trap.
His breath came quicker, each inhale sharper. He didn’t know how deep he’d gone, but his bones told him he was far from safety.
“Thunder!” he shouted, louder this time, but the name came out strained, almost desperate. The echo bounced between the trees before dying in the distance. The silence that followed pressed in on him, heavy and suffocating.
The damp, cold air made every breath harder. His fingers felt stiff, his limbs heavy. Still, he forced himself to move. The darkness played tricks on his eyes—every rustle, every snap of a twig sent his pulse leaping. Was it Thunder… or something else? Wolves? Coyotes?
He shook the thought away, but his heart kept pounding.
A root caught his foot, and this time he went down hard. The impact knocked the air from his lungs. For a moment, he just lay there, staring at the black lattice of branches above.
