It was cold, very cold. Azaak had fallen asleep while listening to Sara. When she opened her eyes she looked for her new friend. She found her in a corner on her knees humming a happy and catchy melody.
-What are you singing? -she asked-. Your will power is worthy of admiration, you seem happy.
-Really? -Sara sighed-. It's just I remembered a story that witch I was telling you about told me. They say in the outside walls of Toledo there's an inn where everyone who stays with a decayed mood or wanting to end this life of suffering, sees the dead and they sing this tune:
It was cold, very cold. Azaak had fallen asleep while listening to Sara. When she opened her eyes she looked for her new friend. She found her in a corner on her knees humming a happy and catchy melody. -What are you singing? -she asked-. Your will power is worthy of admiration, you seem happy. -Really? -Sara sighed-. It's just I remembered a story that witch I was telling you about told me. They say in the outside walls of Toledo there's an inn where everyone who stays with a decayed mood or wanting to end this life of suffering, sees the dead and they sing this tune: