The night was nipping and sour. Cold rain pelted down from the skies and a vicious wind whistled through the trees. On occasion, the crescent moon blared through a break in the clouds and exuded its light on the forested mountain beneath the storm. Most animals sought shelter and stayed there. One creature, however, stumbled down the mountain and through the woods: This creature was, seemingly, a man.
As the storm worsened, the man shuddered and staggered along as quickly as he could. He had descended down the mountain and had fallen once or twice into jagged stones. His body, barren of any clothing, was damaged with scrapes. In his body there was aching and a chill. He did not know where he had come from, nor did he know where he was going—it was difficult to see through the soaking blond hair that stuck to his face—but he knew that he wanted to be away from the mountaintop.
The terrain became less and less steep. The comfort of sodden grass met his feet; it was a relief t
Add Media
Style