The strapping old man looked at Eran with sharp eyes, hinting at great seriousness. The night wind rustled, and the atmosphere around them was filled with a tense atmosphere. It was as if nature itself was participating in an imminent war.
"You should run later, Eran. Understood?" he said again, his voice accompanied by the rustling wind that deepened the tension of the night. The dim moonlight shone on the old man's face, revealing the seriousness of his message.
Eran pondered, his eyes never leaving the old man's face. Many wrinkles adorned the experienced skin on his face, giving the impression that the man had been through so many battles. There were several small wounds adorning his face, traces of the heroic stories he had gone through.
Who knows how many battlefields he had witnessed, who knows how many friends he had left behind. But his scarred face also reveals that he is someone who always perseveres, never giving up.