Alpha King Dimitrio.
As I step forward, the snow crunches under my boot, a sound both crisp and satisfying. Each step I take produces a distinct scrunch but the texture varied; some patches were soft and powdery, while others were denser and compact, producing a more pronounced scrunch.
My entourage is already busy packing their belongings and preparing the carriages for the journey back to Gethmorn. As I make my way to the carriage, I can hear the sounds of bustling activity and the occasional call of orders. I am wearing a dark fur which contrasts sharply with the pristine white of the falling snow. A cloak is clasped at my neck with a silver brooch, and I have my sword underneath the coat.
I stop, taking into detail the preparation to survey the scene. The wind blows strongly, causi
