Upon this hill, beneath a veil of smoke, stood the last warrior to raise his blade.
The battlefield fell silent, as did the warrior.
Only one remained at his side. A white beast, the cat he had nurtured so dear.
On that day, the warrior spoke.
"Should I fall, I entrust this land to you."
For six seasons the grass upon the hill withered and bloomed, yet the cat never once left its post.
O traveler, do not mock this stone.
It stands as a testament to the unwavering loyalty and bond that have endured beyond life and death.
