With his paws crossed and chin resting gently upon them, he gazes forward with a quiet knowing that stops time. His eyes hold the steady calm of a creature who has seen seasons change and stars fall, the soul of something wild and enduring. There’s a softness to his pose and his contemplation, as if he’s remembering something long ago—a cold moonlit run, or the fading echo of a howl across the pines. In this moment, he waits with patience, listening to the quiet rhythm of the wild, holding stories untold in the silence between heartbeats.