The rolling hills of Valan were oftentimes covered in snow. The fog of cold nestled over the valley. For miles -- those that could be seen within the fog of the constant flurry of snowflakes, at least -- was... nothing. A scarce tree here and there. The land was truly desolate.

Unfortunate, for a lost wanderer.

As a weary blackness filled the world, the soft sound of horse hooves came.

Wynn added a log to the fire with a calmness, adding to the warmth that filled the cozy little cabin. When he saw the person’s eyes opened, he smiled briefly. “Ah. You’re awake. Good morning.”