The cave, just on the bank of the mountain held open with draped vines and critters about, was calling to him. “Where are you.” He said to himself. The best of his instincts were left days ago back in the van broken down by the road. “Two days of walking, traversing, blindly following your tracks and you decide a cave would be nice.” He cursed with a suck on his teeth and a one sided snarl.
The branches near the exit were snapped. An impression of a creatures wide print gradiated-
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Despite feeling a bit off-colored lately I’m still finding writing to help push through. Momentum, right?
Thanks 
