BOOM!
A clap of thunder ripped through the air.
A curtain of rain shrouded the gray Celestial Vault, and the dense drizzle stabbed into the muddy road like silver needles.
Black wheels sank deep in the brown mud, emitting muffled groans.
Twelve carriages laden with oak formed a winding line, slithering along the mountain road like a dying giant snake.
The drivers huddled in their soaked wool cloaks, water dripping incessantly from the brims of their hats.
At the head of the train, Old Butte squinted his rain-blurred eyes. Through the reins, his rough fingers could feel the horse's anxious tremors.
This was terrible weather for travel.
Fortunately, having traveled the route between Oak Town and Night Crow Harbor for years, he knew of a nearby cave where they could take shelter.
With this in mind, he glanced back at the caravan. He checked to make sure the canvas tarps were still securely fastened on each wagon before breathing a small sigh of relief.
