Halfway between sea and sheep, in a place of solace, he considers the cost of choice. How choosing might leave an emptiness so gaping the rest of him leaks out.
His face stiffens with sea-blown salt. His head fills with smells of brine and lanolin. He listens as returning waves and bleating sheep harmonize into the sounds that have always been his world - sea and sheep, each wanting this man to be their own.
The sheep implore him, almost pitifully, to stay and be their leader, to belong to this place, and honor the unspoken ancestral promise to protect them on land long shared by their kin.
The sea calls, deep and soulful, telling him of tides, unfathomable depths and endless shores. Offering him all that is beyond this grassy bluff.