"Thork had the right idea," said Jack throwing his backpack over his shoulder. He was dressed warm enough to survive the cold, and with his snowshoes, maybe there was a chance in hell he could make it into the pass and out of the valley.
"You'll never get through," plead Rush. "No one ever has."
"Don't you get it, Rush? None of us are going to make it. At least out there I've got my life in my hands, not theirs."
"So I'm not talking you out of it?"
"Not a chance."
"If you do make it," said Rush with a slight tinge of trepidation, "tell them about us?"
"I'll have people singing songs about Crestwood in every tavern from here to the Great Sea," said Jack with a warm smile.
"Good luck, Jack," Rush said to his friend for the last time.
"You know, it's not too late to come with me," offered Jack.
"My place is here. I have to see this curse to its end," said Rush shaking his head. "Besides, I can't leave these people, they are our friends, our family."
"Not anymore they aren't."
"…Maybe not."
"Gods walk with you," Jack said reciting a usual farewell. With that, he turned and headed into the pass. He didn't hike for much more than a couple hours before the shifting winds howled with the wolves. Perhaps it was part of the curse that drew the wolves to Jack this night; villagers weren't supposed to flee. Or maybe Jack's time was just up. Either way, Rush was right, no one had ever made it through the pass alive and tonight was no exception.
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As you already know, Jack is dead. Day ends at May 22, 2012, 12:00:00 PM.