Resting in his bag was another burden he had to discharge, one last obstacle before he could honestly return to Skymount and finally put an end to an odious journey. He had to face it, if only to say he tried his best to put to bed the consequences of one wet autumn morn in Firthengart’s fields. The longer he sat there, the less he seemed to care about it. Whatever fire had possessed him to drive him this far was slowly petering out, and he wondered if he should push himself to go even this far.