In the sky,with countless bright golden suns,stood a fading,grey figure..
Without much words, without much presence..
As if a mortal,walking slowly towards a path..
Wearing a grey garb, touching his feet,hiding them too,
With a piece of cloth wrapped on his face..
And a stick, wooden..
Silent,calm,determined..
Not even a single strand of his hair was seen..
It was as if he wanted to hide himself well..
And walked towards the path he had choosen..
Leaving behind a name..
Silvermoon..
