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The first change Wilt noticed was the sound and vibrations from the wagon’s wheels on cobbled stone. After days of soft forest trails and packed dirt roads the hard, bumpy surface sent rattling shocks through the frame of the wagon, and the clip-clopping of horseshoes drowned out all other noise.
You hear that? I was wondering if we’d ever see real civilisation again. Real stone.
Wilt gathered his belongings, strapping the weld blade onto his hip and throwing the forest cloak around his shoulders. He sat patiently in his moving prison, trying to ignore the noise and discomfort, knowing that this particular journey was nearing its end.
Sure enough, only an hour or so later he heard rough voices call out a challenge and answer, and a new noise joined the chorus. Wilt closed his eyes a
