The Lone Traveler

Lone Traveler
Lone Traveler

Sweat burned in his eyes. He’d been traveling since he could remember. He bore the marks of countless battles, and the stories could be known just by looking in his eyes. A worn and tattered appearance reflected his soul, but his spirit still burned as brightly as his cause. He was not done. Not yet. There were still fights to be fought, and it didn’t matter that he was the only one left. This was his cause. His life.

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