Oksana
The next day and a half had convinced Oksana of three things. One she hated traveling on foot, two she hated dirt, and three she hated when someone else was right. She glared at Assar’s back as they trudged through the wet mud of the wildlands. The wind was howling as the cold air of the blood lands was further augmented by the cutting wind and the colder temperatures in this northern region.
After their argument two nights before, Assar and Oksana had successfully ridden out into the city, and out the city limits following a path that Assar seemed capable of seeing but was lost on her. She had chosen a tightfitting pair of pants and shirt from the wide array of clothes she brought with her.