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... sunset.
The silver wolf returned from scouting only to find its hired hand had vanished.
If it weren’t already a native wolf, it might have howled, "One step from happiness, yet we scattered before holding hands."
With a frustrated "Awoo," it vented—just once—before resigning itself to the search.
Losing track while tracking? Could anything be more absurd?
Descending the mountain…
Well, there was more than one path anyway.
It was no surpris ...
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