Cresting the hill, and moving only a little slower than when he started hours earlier, one thought kept pushing him forward and placing one foot in front of the other, mile after mile. As tired as he was, and as long as the hike would prove to be, he couldn’t stop now and be denied what every hiker cherishes, because he knows what awaits him as the journey nears its end. Coming around the final bend after a long day, he can smell the burning wood of a warm fire and the almost extinct odor of burning charcoal. This would prove to be the genesis of the nights feast.
Feast