Arthur sighed, now sitting on a chair in his cave.
The cave has seen an improvement in quality, there were now two wooden chairs next to a small stone table, there were wooden beams and pillars to support the cave's roof and walls, and finally there was a decent bed frame, covered by a bunch of diffrent plant life.
Getting up and Summoning his cloak, he left the cave through a large door and pushed a decent sized rock in front of it.
Putting on the hood to cover his face, he traveled downhill.
As he arrived at the base of the mountain after half an hour of climbing and walking, he grabbed a home made rope that was connected to a decent sized sled, ans began dragging it behind him.
After a few hours, he returned to the base of the mountain once again, now dragging several trees on his sled, after almost 2 hours, he finally managed to drag up the sled to his new home.
Sitting down, Arthur dismissed his cloak memory and summoned the Dawn's ballad, shifting it into a shorter blade, about a size of a machete, and started carving the wood.
He sat there silently, carving the wood like the machine he has become after Jack's death, whitch was a month ago.
Arthur had changed, his hair grew out, now reaching his upper back, he now avoided any fights he could, only taking them when he needed the food, and if you would look at his eyes, the once golden radiant eyes with feline pupils, now we're dulled, as if the light once in them vanished without a trace.
The next day, he repeated it, the decent from the mountains, the search and collection of wood and then the climb. And every second day he hunted two creatures, and thus the cycle is born anew.