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The fleeting shadow raced across the seldom-trodden deep woods, tracing its path while flowers of frost bloomed continuously amongst the grass and leaves. The towering vegetation, untouched by humans, collided with the massive illusion, and in the next instant, everything was clad in a silvery garb.
Most of the vegetation had died in the process, with only a few hardy, cold-resistant plants tenaciously surviving this early arrival of winter.
The road left behind by the coach driven by the Wanderer was a path of chilly gloom, but Lyle and the others within the heart of this deathly cold hurricane felt warmth inside the carriage, even a bit of heat.
