Edward whipped his cart along, the oxen hitched to it getting agitated with the setting sun. Squinting his eyes against the glaring sunset.
"C'mon you stubborn cow, move it before we are left in the dark!"
His words falling on ignorant ears, he was left to continue whipping the reins in frustration.
Rolling over a hill, he breathed in relief as he saw a great city in the distance. The sun relinquished it's blinding rays as it dipped below the world, Edward finally able to relax his aching brow and get some relief from the heat of the day.
"Let's go Desmond, get us to the gates and I will give you all the hay you want."
He had been rushing to reach Petlondail for several days, wanting to find a new home within its sturdy walls.
As the last rays of light vanished, the moon illuminated much of the surrounding cliffside. To see the ocean at night was breathtaking, feel and smell the wind as it brought a salty mist over the land.
Getting wrapped up in sightseeing, he failed to notice the guard hailing him at the gates until Desmond called at the men blocking his way.
"My deepest apologies, I was just caught in the landscape."
A guard stepped away from the lead ox, eyeing Edward with suspicion.
"Cutting it awful close this evening, mind if we take a look beneath your tarp?"
Edward nodded in consent as a few more guards joined in searching through his belongings.
"Alright, I guess we can let one more in tonight, welcome to Petlondail sir."
Tipping his wide brimmed hat, Edward whipped the reins to guide his cart through, then found a stable with room and payed for the inconvenience.
He had told the man he would be back for the cart, but the truth was he had stolen it says ago. Lightly stretching after the journey, he felt some regret. All that time wasted on working up a viable persona had all been wasted, he would keep that in mind for later trips.
Walking the empty streets, he found it very disorientating and stepped into an alley. Smoke rose from his opened palm and enveloped him, dragging him to the ground before dissipitating.
A raven flew through the air, its beady eye focusing on the grand library, the first stop of many.