Rain misted out the the gray sky, soaking into the green countryside. Narrow roads followed stone walls that partitioned tracts of land. Cows and sheep chewed quietly in the fields, paying no attention to the passing world. The scent of wild onions drifted on the breeze, mixing with the tangible breath of life from the growing plants. The air was crisp and clear.
Kyle stood, leaning against a low stone wall beneath a tree, watching the blossoms of flowers bend gently in the wind. His brown hair was matted to his head; a curious smile gracing his mouth. His wiry body was encased in a old leather jacket and blue jeans, the rain making rivulets down the leather. His sturdy boots were encrusted with mud. A small pack rested on the ground next to him, filled with dried fruit and jerky, a small map covered in dots, a small bound journal and a sketchbook. He had just left a small town behind him, his destination, another small town. He didn't stay long in any one area. There was another dot added to his map as he left the town. He didn't mind sleeping out of doors.
The rain let up and Kyle looked up at they sky. The sun seemed as if it would make an appearance, and so he decided to continue to the next town. Shouldering his pack, Kyle stepped out from under the tree and hummed a tune as he walked down the country road. Another town, another memory.
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