A lone wagon

After another two hours of your long strides, you finally spot something other than the foliage. A lone white silhouette over a brown wooden frame travelled between two hills beneath you, pulled by a pair of older horses. From this distance you could only see one person at the reigns, though your eyes aren’t sharp enough to make out who it is.

You wonder who would be traveling without escort in these dangerous plains. Likely either someone strong enough to handle the dangers, or someone **** enough to take the risk. You decide to find out by confronting them. After all, the only advantage they have out here is that they can see any threat coming from a long distance, so any stealthy approach was out. You descend down the hill quickly, hand reaching back to pull the spear from it’s holster. You stop in front of the path of the wagon, putting your hand up to stop it. The wagon slows as the driver pulls the reigns, stopping the horses feet from you, letting you finally see who would dare drive an unguarded wagon in these lands.