The cold wind swirled again, and this time, he held tight the blanket made from the fur of a wild wolf, hoping to keep the cold from bashing his skin. It had rained twice today and even though he was among the many that had prayed for the downpour, he was a bit annoyed. The drizzle was drenching his expensive hood and it would take days to remove all the water. Circumstances like this often make him wish for the dry season. The privilege and freedom to travel into any city without care of being drenched, especially when one was in their ceremonial attire.
He snort and tugged the rein, hoping the Zebra would increase its pace. If he had his way he would have remained within the walls of his house, under his roof, and with the warmness of his wife. But comfort was something he had never kno
