Tillian tugged the reins of his black stallion, forcing it to stop in front of the forest. He jumped off the horse and threw his large sword into the snow, adding more on top of it as he started kicking his foot around. Sir Stanis followed his example.
Tired, dirty, dripping with sweat, and covered with dried splatters of dark blood, the men had just finished cleaning up the territories, slaying the roaming beasts, and burning their dead bodies.
Stanis grabbed the lower part of his long dark-brown cape attached to the shoulder plates of his black armor and wiped his wet forehead with it, releasing a long, exhausted exhale as he said in a cold tone,
"Damn it... I don't remember the last time we had to kill so many beasts in one day. Was it really the fire that made them so anxious? They never used to fight like that before. They looked genuinely scared and angry."
