Mack jumped out of his automag while kicking the back of it, and the automag folded itself, turning in to a small metallic sphere while in midair. Mack grabbed the sphere in front of him and put it in his right pocket, then he looked up.
Hundreds or maybe thousands of wyverns flew high in the sky, its shadows covering the ground around the foot of the mountain, turning the day more somber.
Mack finally had reached the foot of the White Peaks, the mountain that was full of wyverns, as if there was no more space in the skies for them.
~sigh~
"Another shitty day," lamented Mack. He hated climbing, or trekking, or anything involving going up a mountain.
But he still stepped forward on the icy ground, and didn't look back. There was only one path for him, ever, and it was forward.
