The old man moved. Finally. Rasing his arms, his shoulders creaked. As he straightened his arms, his elbow gave a loud resounding crack. Wincing, he brought his hands to his head n took off the tall hat that he sported. As he did so, he lowered his head in approval. The youth before him won his respect, such tenderness, such resolute, such strength.

Sadly, she dint get to where she is easy. She traded innocence and mindfo to achieve what she has. To others, that is what they wish to become. But to her, a part died the day she became who she is. She would rather be like the rest, incapable of sight.

She had treaded his path and there is an unspoken understanding that comes to past between them. Hopefully, he would be able to lead her to the right path.

But of course, the cynic in humans would always question, who are we to say what is The right path? And he will answer, the right path is the path which we deem to be most correct based on what made us who we are and what we think is most correct at the point when we make a decision.