Rod felt the cold wind whistling past his ears as he pressed against the horse's flanks.
The horse's hooves clattered over the snow, making a crisp "clap clap" sound, stirring up a flurry of tiny snowflakes that danced in the wind.
Rod couldn't determine exactly how fast Night Fury was going, but as Night Fury galloped, Rod felt that it was like riding a motorcycle in his previous life.
This feeling was something other warhorses couldn't provide.
Of course, Rod didn't let Night Fury run wild.
A few hundred meters later, he gently pulled the reins to slow down Night Fury's pace. After making a lap around the small town, they returned to the town.
Night Fury's nostrils exhaled steady white breaths, his tail lightly swaying, showing no signs of fatigue.
No one from the merchant caravan left; they all waited quietly in place.
Engle and Lawrence were huddled together chatting and gesturing, as if negotiating prices on the caravan's goods.
