he was cold, battered, broken and damaged from the journey.
the shoes on his feet were but dust along the road from which he had come from. his eyes had lost their shine-the punishment of days of walking in the dust with his eyes spread wide open in order to escape the taloned clutches of death waiting for him to give in.
he saw the city.
he saw her running towards him, arms stretched out to receive his broken body.
he felt her around him, so alive within his arms.
and he knew the journey had been worth it.
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