[Wolfwood can’t force Angelina to run the entire way nonstop, even if it wasn’t four days out. He can run for a while before they’re forced to slow to a canter or a trot, then to a walk to give her a proper cooldown. Yet the entire way, he doesn’t rest. The cold wind beating against his face keeps him awake, knowing that traveling at night is smarter when you’re not on a wagon because otherwise the sun would cook him out in this desert.
He does have to stop to sleep eventually, and each night he sleeps on a bedroll directly under the stars. He’s too stressed to set up camp properly, too worried he’ll be too late and miss Ain somehow. As soon as dawn hits he’s off again each day, alternating between riding and sleeping, day and night, stop and go.
He can’t catch up. He hasn’t seen the wagon since Ain left the town, and he can feel the anxiety mount as he wonders if it’s possible that Ain decided to go somewhere else….
But then he reminds himself that, no. It was the mountains they wanted to see, together. So when the mountain range looms high in the distance at the peak of sunset, he knows he’s almost there.
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He does have to stop to sleep eventually, and each night he sleeps on a bedroll directly under the stars. He’s too stressed to set up camp properly, too worried he’ll be too late and miss Ain somehow. As soon as dawn hits he’s off again each day, alternating between riding and sleeping, day and night, stop and go.
He can’t catch up. He hasn’t seen the wagon since Ain left the town, and he can feel the anxiety mount as he wonders if it’s possible that Ain decided to go somewhere else….
But then he reminds himself that, no. It was the mountains they wanted to see, together. So when the mountain range looms high in the distance at the peak of sunset, he knows he’s almost there.
He just hopes he isn’t too late.]