Lost
Lost: 2. unable to find the way to a place
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"This can't be right."
A gynormous frown crossed the knight's face as he frowned at the snow capped peaks in front of him. He surveyed the lowly track that he had followed for days, seeing no one in either direction. "Hmph. I could have sworn Caelin was further away from hills that size."
Bald pate shining in the sun that peeked fitfully through the clouds, Wallace pondered his next move. He could see no other recourse than to move forward. The heavy metal plate that he wore clanked dully as he tackled to the first of the foothills.
"Hm... guess I should have brought the lads along with me on my quest to deal with those bandit scum. They may not amount to much without a horse, but they made excellent scouts." Wallace looked down on the foothills from his precarious perch on the side of the mountain. He'd managed to find a footpath of sorts which allowed him better travel, but it obviously wasn't made for the likes of a man in heavy armor to traverse. Undaunted by such trivial concerns that might hinder a lesser man, Wallace had persevered.
Forging onward steadily, his figure became lost in the gentle swirls of snow that began to fall.
He was found a week later by one of the farming families, half frozen on the outskirts of their nearly barren fields. After partaking of their hospitality, Wallace decided to help them out to repay them for their kindness. In the interim, his lust for battle cooled, replaced by his devotion to tilling the soil. Eventually the retired knight purchased his own plot of land beside the kind souls who had saved him from a frozen destiny.
And that is how we find him plowing fields in Ilia.
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AN: Wallace - underused and underappreciated. I wanted this to be so much more; alas, my muse wasn't cooperating. I hope I've managed to capture at least a portion of his character here. ^^