The old man, Altuna, spent the entire day dilly-dallying, aimlessly wandering through the city. With a walking stick in his hand, he roamed through the entire city. He had taken a leave from the academy. It was his first leave in years, and thus he had no worry of returning back.
As evening fell, he made his way toward the Sticky Forest. Although he was traveling on foot, his pace far outstripped the bus which had been used earlier by the academy students.
Altuna ventured deep into the forest, almost reaching its heart. The terrain was riddled with hills and snow covered mountains, and the valleys teemed with beasts of formidable rank. Yet, none dared to approach him.
He navigated the slopes and valleys with casual ease even as he limped and had to use the walking stick for support until he arrived at a cliff. Perched there was a small wooden house, overlooking a deep gorge.
