Early morning in autumn, the leaves had fallen to the muddy trench floor. Late at night, the misty dust blew itself around as the wind shook the ground. The wind howled it's way around taking everything it touched. The leaves sky dived off the trees.

The sunset was orange and pink. The château was white, yellow and red. At night, the snow glistened like the dew on the grass as it was pulled by the wind further and further away. The snowy mountains were taller and smaller than the others.

At sunset, a man, who was old and exhausted, stumbled down the dusty path. Upon his back stands a rough rucksack with a blanket and a jacket. His clothes were damp and torn making his long journey more miserable. His only thoughts were of getting food and drink.