The snowy path stretched out before them, flanked by towering pine trees adorned with a fresh layer of glistening snow. The air was crisp and cold, the only sound the soft crunch of hooves against the snowy ground and the gentle patter of snowflakes falling from the sky.
Ahead, a large parade of carriages and horses made its way slowly down the road, each carriage laden with boxes of various sizes. The snowfall seemed to slow their progress, but the procession pressed on, determined to reach its destination.
"These loads sure are slowing us down," a knight murmured from behind as they rode.
Valdimar, riding in front, turned sharply to glare at the Sylvanian knight. "What'd you say?" he demanded, his voice sharp with irritation. "You. You complained about the boxes before. Now, you still have something to say?"
