A lone figure walked a dusty gravel road, every other footstep falling short with an obvious limp. His worn boots left no mark in the dirt he trod upon; the road was traversed so much that it had been ground flat. He paused for a moment in his awkward gait, as though memories were returning to him, lost for a long time. He took one breath, and continued on his way.
It was early morning, and the sun was just peaking over the top of the hills, spreading warm light all over the valley beneath it. Morning dew still sat in fat droplets on the grass, and the only noise was the rustling of livestock as the shifted in their pens. A soft breeze played across the earth, playing with the traveler’s long hair and whipping his coat around his knees. Nobody else was awake yet. Nobody saw the man, and even if they had, they would not have recognized him. He stopped at the edge of a cobblestone fence, and glanced up at the modest yellow farmhouse that stood behind it.