Strange people(2)

The sun hung bright in the sky, its golden light spilling over the land like molten amber. The chill of winter had begun to fade, replaced by the crisp, invigorating air of early spring. The earth was waking. Buds swelled on branches, the scent of damp soil and fresh grass filled the breeze, and the distant hum of insects foretold the coming bloom.

Down the well-trodden dirt road, a cart rolled steadily forward, its wooden wheels creaking in rhythm with the slow sway of its passengers. It was an old thing, sturdy but weathered, its frame scarred by time and travel. A single horse pulled it, a shaggy beast of brown and white, its thick winter coat beginning to shed in uneven tufts.