Libing

"Great!" the lazy boy chirped, "Let's go."

He began trotting down the path.

The brash boy grit his teeth, and the clever boy sighed, following begrudgingly, while the old man limped from behind, his knees crippling his stride.

The mountain was an exhausting trek. They had been searching for the entire day with little rest, and it was beginning to take its toll on the old man. He felt light-headed, and his eyes wouldn't follow the dirt trial; they'd wander about aimlessly.

His attention began to drift, and he began to wonder about their target, and whether or not they'd be able to take him. These boys were still wet behind the ears, and this was where they had to cut their teeth--not break them.

A question passed through his mind for a moment--but, the pain in his legs and the stiffness in his arms quickly reminded him of the answer.

"...we'll cross that bridge when we get to it." he thought.

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