Prince Enid rode in a horse-drawn carriage, following a road that cut through a very shabby countryside. He quickly closed the window of the carriage, feeling the foul wind blowing in the middle of the countryside seep in, caressing his face unpleasantly. After a full day of listening to the sound of horses' hooves scraping, Enid was deeply disturbed by the silence that suddenly enveloped him.
Their carriage passed through dense forests and stretches of countryside. There was a low hum from outside the carriage as the coachman talked to the farmers and merchants living in the Starastok countryside. However, Enid only wore a sour face, as if lost in his world. I don't know how long he had been silent, brooding, and contemplating since his departure from his hometown in Petrolina.
