On a crudely paved pathway, shadows of dancing branches flickered, unable to be completely blocked by the brilliance of the afternoon sun.
The sun's rays pierced through the canopy of trees, with the wind causing the branches to wave, sometimes allowing more sunlight to shine through and at other times blocking the rays.
A group of people, some adorned in silver leather armor while others wore black, walked alongside a horse-drawn carriage.
The carriage's coachman; a middle-aged man with dark skin and two demon-like horns atop his head.
Sensing something, the coach halted the two black stallions pulling the carriage.
"Hey, why did you stop?" asked a silver warrior, his tone condescending.
"F*ck off. Are your senses that dull?" the coach retorted, not giving the warrior the respect he sought.
