“If you don’t mind my speaking up, I think he might still be alive!” Dale looked up with such speed that his neck nearly snapped. He scrutinized the man who spoke those words. He was standing in front and looking down at them. He was nearly six feet tall, bald and white-bearded. He had a dignified expression and was dressed in white noble clothing. His white robe and beard fluttered in the wind slightly as he looked at the crying Dale and supposedly dead Wilson. When Dale said nothing and looked on in a daze, the old man continued speaking.
“I believe he’s still breathing. So, if you let me help right now, he can still be saved. Come on, follow me.”Dale said nothing as his face turned serious and lifted Wilson up in his hands and followed the man. They stopped in front of the closest restaurant to their right before entering. “We are going to use a table, if you don’t mind!” The old man said to the inn owner that stood behind the counter. “No problem!”
