The verdant forest sways under the cold night sky, along with the familiar aromatic smell of cedar wood, a memory from the distant past, and something that does not exist in this world. With the night sky ever imposing, a lone person walks a road of uncertainty, yet his will to move and change is unyielding. With his might, those around him became molded into his shape, thereby making his mark in the ever-daunting world.
With quick-paced steps, Quagmire moves. The night was getting deeper, and he was still outside the comfort of his base; he was in the comfort of the perimeter, but anything could change. Moreover, he just felt more comfortable being in the base, and with that, he could make the droids hold a defensive position.
