the trampling of horses mixed with the creaking of the wagon is slightly audible from behind the trees, the snow creaks under the feet and falls off the branches of the fir trees, Scara shivers a little, shaking off the snow from his body, he tries to sit comfortably on a hard seat, the snow-dusted cloak on his shoulders develops in the wind, many beautiful views around the wagon, but Scaramouche mutters discontentedly

"when we arrive at this damn village.."