Third Person
The carriage rolled through the night, its wheels crushing the gravel while drifting snow covered its tracks, erasing its marks just like Vegas was trying to erase what was left of Caelan in Moonfang. Aside from the heavy breathing of the horses, the noise of the moving trail, and the low murmuring of the soldiers, everywhere else was quiet.
Rain sat across Caelan, his fingers tapping slowly against his knee. His gaze was neutral, his eyes pressed to the ground as if studying the weather. Time passed, and the temperature dropped.
Viola and the others, who had sobered up thanks to the cold weather, brought more warm blankets and cloaks for the newlyweds. The carriages stopped for a moment, and Rain and Caelan's carriage was converted into a resting space. Rain helped Caelan lie down while he sat, leaning against the carriage wall.
