The soft rain is more a mist, drifting about me. I do not mind it. At times it brings an ache to my leg... but that is so much a part of me now that I rarely heed it.

I have left subtle signs for him. I give him seven days. If he is about, he will find them and come to me on this hill. I think at times he needs no signs deliberately set to find what he wants. I could wander, but in truth it is better he comes to me. I am not chasing him up hill and down dale. He is likely to turn it into a challenge, once he knows I am on his scent.