Journey With A Centaur. 3

The cold air of the Paradox brushed against Trent's mask, and the howling wind danced all through the lands. He could feel the cold clawing at his bones, making him wonder how Acarr was strong enough to move naked, enduring it. He imagined how much worse some weather must have been, and for a creature that had never worn an article of clothing since she was birthed, she looked rather hale, sound, and robust.

"It does rain in the Paradox, right? I mean, at least if there's no sun, food actually grows somehow..." Trent inquired, picking up a conversation as she moved with a steady galloping speed. Her hooves dug into the soil with each step, her feminine upper body leading the way. Acarr had a staff firmly in her grasp, as if ready for any attack while she navigated through the windy, uninhabitable region.