Ignatius Leclair tugged at the guide rope, he didn't know how long he had been walking, how many streams he had crossed, how many slopes he had climbed, how many times he had fallen. The longer it took, the more panicked he felt inside, and the more he hated his current powerless state.
It wasn't until the dog ahead let out a joyful bark, and the man smelled a familiar scent in the air, that he realized his palms were all sweaty. The path was full of thorns, and his heart felt like Hell.
Delphine heard the dog's happy bark, stood up, and as soon as she turned around, she saw the guide dog circling around her closely.
"Why are you running around?" The man who followed the guide dog scolded harshly, his face pale, with a hint of fear.
Delphine saw that the path had been rugged with mountains and streams, not knowing how many times he had fallen. His shoes and pants were muddy, and his handsome face had been scratched by something. Before she could speak, the man hugged her tightly.
