Eamon's pov
I stormed away from the sorcerer's hut, my mind a whirlwind of doubt and frustration. The sorcerer's vision had left me deeply unsettled to be honest, despite my initial skepticism. As I descended the mountain, my steps heavy with the weight of uncertainty, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of helplessness.
Without a word, I stopped over at a nearby bar, the dimly lit interior offering a stark contrast to the blinding whiteness of the snow outside. I needed a drink to numb the turmoil in my mind, if only for a moment.
I took a seat at the bar, the cool wood beneath my fingertips a welcome distraction. The bartender, a burly wolf with a grizzled beard, approached. "What'll it be, sir ?"
"Whiskey," I muttered, my voice low and filled with frustration.
As I nursed my
