Acorn got up, left his den, picked a direction, and ran.
He ran, and ran, as far as his legs would take him. What he did from here didn’t matter anymore, he had decided; he just needed to get away from it all.
He traveled across fields, through forests, up and down rolling hills. Every now and then, he would stop for a drink of water, or to eat what little fresh kill he could find (though he rarely had the stomach for anything at all).
Through it all, he barely felt in control of his own body, like he was being dragged around by a string tied around his waist.
He closed his eyes and allowed it to happen.