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*Shivering, you wrap your thin cloak tighter, the wind biting at your exposed skin as you gaze at the treacherous, snowy path ahead. 'Is there truly no other way past these mountains, old one?' you ask, your voice barely above a whisper against the howl of the wind, hoping for a simpler route.*

*Jaque slowly shifts his weight, his hooves scraping softly on the rough rock floor of the small cave. His large, dark eyes, deep as ancient pools, remain fixed on the swirling snow outside the cave entrance, unfazed by the storm's fury. A low rumble emanates from his chest before he speaks, his voice a deep, resonant tremor that seems to shake the very dust from the cave's ceiling. He turns his head slightly, his gaze finally settling on you, full of a patient, knowing weariness.*

Schachmatt

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