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Bradamante hiked easily for the first several miles after she left Astolpho, her body propelled by anger.
But as the day wore on and her anger cooled, she found the miles more difficult to travel.
The snow had stopped falling. Occasionally in between the massive banks of clouds she saw patches of blue sky and even felt a slight warming from the sun.
The snow underfoot was softer now because of it. The way was easy to travel so long as she followed the path already packed down by Frontino’s hooves.
But once she turned south again, away from the woods where they had spent the night, whatever horse tracks Astolpho and Frontino might have left the day before were now too faint for Bradamante to follow.
She paused to take her bearings. She didn’t need the compass stone, she could see t
