It was with a heavy heart that Sarah bid her father farewell as he sat stoically upright against the headboard of the bed, pale and weak from illness.

"Mind yourself," he intoned, kissing her cheek as she leaned over him, tears sparkling in her eyes. "And… Sarah? Have an adventure." Her gaze met his and he smiled meekly. "Let it go." He pressed a small wooden object into her hand; it was a little charm, an ox. She ducked her head and allowed him to hang the creature about her neck. She fingered it affectionately and left a kiss on his clammy forehead in gratitude.