8

It took about a month until the dune won against him.

The wanderer didn't notice the signs until it was already too late. Maybe he subconsciously noticed them and decided to ignore the soreness that was built in his throat or the increased thirst. 

It just seemed so close. The roaring in the distance seemed to grow more powerful, the closer he got to the mountains. He had to continue walking.
And so, he had pushed forward, a decision that he would come to regret the very same evening when he simply collapsed next to the first tree of the small forest that was growing at the edge of the mountain his path ran through.

Is this the end?

He pondered that question as he tried to make his hands reach for his water bottle. Unfortunately, they didn't obey.

And so he laid there trying to come to terms with the fact that it was his turn to go.

But where?

The weird woman had said that she saw god die. What if that meant there was no afterlife? Still, he could almost feel his mind slowly leaving his body. The last thing he could see before his eyes submitted to the darkness, was Avemortis leaping into the dark sky.

So now you're flying away, are you going to leave me like the crow of the old man who shared his fire with me left him?

His thoughts slowed down to a screeching halt, he felt the heat of the sun slowly disappearing.

The very last thing he heard before he fell unconscious was a pair of footsteps approaching him, and the flapping of a bird.

Seems like one who lives alone, doesn't necessarily die alone