I walked down the streets of the city with Bailey by my side. His silent footsteps heavily contrasted with my soft plaps on the stone ground. Without shoes, it's hard to avoid making noise on this flooring.
As the sun began to set beneath the hundred meter wall, I arrived at my "home."
To call this a home is laughable. It's simply a mixture of scraps that I was able to cobble together to form a shelter. Despite this, it keeps me out of the rain and snow, so I bear with it.
As I began to crawl inside, I heard a sound that made my stomach drop.
Horse hooves on cobblestone.
As I turned around, I saw a man riding on a chestnut horse. He had a long, curly white beard and rosy cheeks. He is wearing stunning black armor that is polished to perfection, and draped around him is a large black cloak that billows in the wind. The horse's coat was cleaned to an immaculate sheen as the remnants of sunlight reflected off of it into my eyes.
