The chilling wind brushed across his face, as the sun was setting behind the mountain peak. With steady eyes he absorbed the last rays, as he used to do every single day, leaving the comfort of the mountain cabin where he and his master resided for years uncounted, secluded from the worries of the world. Long ago have his short daily strolls to this part of the mountain carved a small path, unhindered by the snowfalls and the rain. As this time of the day was his and his alone, away from his master’s company, he kept staring at the sun, reminiscing on his past life, the battles he has seen the terrors and the beauty of the world and while his task was ever clear he would have wanted nothing more than to walk again in the green valleys of Sarotan or the golden beaches of Kharan something that would never again come to pass, unless the world came under chaos and destruction once again.
His master has sacrificed everything to make sure this would never happen and his own sacrifices paled in comparison. The old man, now broken in body, soul and spirit hardly ever left the cabin and depended on him alone to lighten his burden, reluctant to keep on living, unable to die. The love he held for the old wizard, was unconditional and unwavering and yet in the deepest part of his existence he secretly hoped that something will once again stir up in the world, something that would call them back to life, back to the lands of Agnaron.
Lost in thought and memories, the sun set completely over Nigmarosh, the forbidden mountains, and as he sighted, his head hang from his shoulders and turning around he walked the familiar way home, his paws crushing the first small flakes of snow that started falling.
