Objective Gist

From the couch where I scouted, I heard a shout come from the South. No doubt, my bout of search backed by my stout passion to remain on this route is about to sprout a good result. I raced quickly down the base of the hill at an unbelievable pace with the expectation to unveil the face behind the veil. Alas, a new case of total disappointment and a new phase of utter disgrace. What bellowed below was just the echo from a vast fallow land with no tracks to follow. My mind had played a fast one on me with the whistling of the nearby thistles and my heels waited for no further epistles before it sprinted foolishly down the bushy hill. I know the familiar tune of mock that played in my head as my eyes sorrowfully traced the row of thistles back to the top of the high hill from where I had just descended. I looked ahead into the fallow emptiness to know what clue to follow next. My feet stayed glued to the ground as the pains from the descent now take its effect. I know I have to overcome