The trio rode on horseback along a dirt road under the afternoon sun. The swamp was finally behind them. The Rank 4 potion was doing its work, and though a deep ache still resided in his muscles, Aurelion felt considerably better.
He looked down at the brown horse beneath him. "I will need a proper one in the future," he thought, then turned his gaze forward again.
They were crossing a series of rolling green plains, a gentle wind rustling the tall grass.
"Only two months until the snows return, right, Commander Rolf?" Finn said, breaking the comfortable silence.
Rolf merely nodded. "We are Northerners, Finn. Snow, cold... it is in our nature."
"That's true, but there's a certain beauty when the snow is gone," Finn said cheerfully. He then turned to Aurelion. "Right?"
Aurelion glanced at him, raising a single eyebrow. "I am not a Northerner."
"Yes," Finn replied, "but you were raised in these lands, grew up with our culture. You must be familiar with it."
