"Months before his departure, he would sit solemnly on the hill over the red oak and glare into the distance. Despite the passing hours, he would not move, not even blink. Always focusing the same spot on the horizon. Sometimes the wind would carry a silent whisper into his ears. Voices from very far away. Were they from this world? He knew, if he stayed much longer, he would never have the chance to leave the forest and answer the call."