Lyon was sleeping soundlessly with his chest heaving up and down. The serenity was further amplified by the gentle winds kissing his face.
One small beast was peeking over from a hidden rock. Its cold-blooded eyes were looking at the burnt great wyrm. The host of the peak was beyond dead, however, the said beast was darting his glance toward the sleeping young man before it suddenly run away with its little legs begging to survive.
The shimmer of dusk passed by as the great twilight died down. The night had thus arrived with thousands of stars to show, however, the sleeping young man didn't flutter his eyelids. No beast dared to near him and the rustles of the grass were not enough to gain his consciousness back.
...
Sakya was already at the foot of the peak. The sky had worn its gown thus she furrowed her brows. She turned around and looked up. She had never thought to find a mysterious person like that at the peak of the mountain.
