Whining.
Aspen exhales slowly.
But her voice drops to steel.
I study her for a moment.
She’s exhausted.
Grieving.
Overwhelmed.
And still standing there ready to climb a mountain for an old man who isn’t even related to her by blood.
Tank would’ve loved her. He did love her.
I sigh.
“Stay close,” I tell her.
Then I turn toward the trees.
“Alright,” I say.
“Let’s go find Harold.”
Buddy bolts forward.
And the Rangers move out behind him.