Perhaps it was the wind and snow, pulled by the Wanderer, too intense, that amidst the ceaseless winter snow, Lyle watched the distant mountains recede like waves. Frost flowers bloomed, and time slowed down. On the third dawn, lit by the light of silvery frost, Lyle knew they had arrived in Posuwa.
It felt like a dull thud upon the heart; something eerie and bone-chilling, formless through the spotty soil, climbed the racing frost carriage's frame and crept onto Lyle's body. Nia extended her tentacles, flailing aimlessly in the air, shadows of bad omens spread beneath Lyle's feet, and in an instant, the semi-transparent floor of the carriage was covered in darkness.
The world outside the window began to jolt, four specter horses neighed uncontrollably, fortunately, the reins held them in check. As calm returned, Ivan turned his head with a complaining tone, "My master, please contain your influence; Posuwa's curse and your corruption are proving quite the snow on snow for us."
