The frosty wind brushed his pale face, bringing the fresh scent of pine with it. He wore a cold coat of snow over his body, though he hardly felt it now, as his limbs were numb from exposure. He soon closed his tired eyes for the last time.
His last breath was that of the forests he grew up in, at least he could be granted that wish...
On the tree he died under, a sign is placed. It reads: "Here lies Gerald O'Brian, age 61. R.I.P"
((Well, my character was getting old, and also boring for me, so I felt it was time for me to change. I've been playing as Gerald since the fourteenth of June though, so I won't just give up all of the history I've put behind him, and I'll now be his son who I will name Henry. So if you see me, don't call me Gerald. :) ))