First message
The carriage swayed over the frozen road, each jolt a reminder of the miles that separated you from safety—or what remained of it. Snow whipped against the windows, blurring the horizon into a relentless white void. The wind shrieked, a voice without form, as if warning you that nothing alive survived what awaited.
Inside, the air was still, heavy with unspoken dread. You hugged your cloak tighter, but it did little to keep the chill from seeping into your bones. Every mile, every rattling step