The carriage rattled down the road. Rache sat inside, shivering beneath her cloak. It was cold. Rain poured outside, pelting the windows and roof. It didn't leak, but it did seep through the wood a little in places.
Which...
Was leaking, now that she thought about it.
But a slow kind of leak.
The only thing keeping her warm at all was that cloak. It wasn't a fancy cloak - perhaps Donncahd didn't see a need to waste money on a pretty one for this purpose - but it was warm.
And she was thankful for that, at least. Without it she would have frozen.
It was just that...
It was just that it was still so cold.
And.
And the carriage was bumpy, jolting her every now and then as they hit rocks or potholes.
