Another Sleepless Night

"So, what's your name stranger?" Asked the bartender.

No reply.

"I take it you're not from around here."

No reply.

"I bet you could tell a story or two, you certainly look the type who has a story."

"You're right, I do," Mark Theobald said, looking up from his Wizard Mind Bomb.

"Go on, tell me your story," the bartender said.

"It's a long one."

"I've got a long time, and if you've got a problem then remember: a problem shared is a problem halved."

"I guess you're right. Let me just tell you though; I'm not proud of what I did."

Tarqinder had lost his balance, and now thanks to a hungry wolf he had fell quite a way down the mountain. Mark rushed down to where he was, he'd been too scared to help, and he felt responsible for what had happened. Tarqinder's body lay flat on the ground at the summit, slowly gathering snow on it. Mark reached into Tarqinder's pockets and took a number of his items; surely Tarqinder would not need them now?

"I'm sorry," Mark murmured as he walked slowly onwards.

Mark took the long route around the mountain, and did it at a slow pace. He did not want to rush, for that was how Tarqinder had ended up in his situation. If Mark saw a wolf, he decided he would throw some of the fish he had took from Tarqinder and would throw it, in attempt to distract the wolf.