158 Regrouping

*Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack*

A rickety merchant's wagon traveled south-east down the well-worn road, making regular and rhythmic clacking sounds as it rolled along at a steady pace. It was pulled by 2 strong-looking farm horses, strong with thick, heavily-muscled bodies, but not very agile or quick. At the helm was just a regular scrawny old man biting a reed, chewing on it absent-mindedly as he held the reins of the horses.

The man had dirty brown-blonde hair and a face full of wrinkles - though, perhaps he was not as old as the wrinkles suggested. Those wrinkles were was probably more due to a hard life, one full of vicissitudes and constant struggling to put food on the table for himself and his family.