Guillaume Dubois

The sound of heavy hooves thumping against damp earth echoes through the fog, accompanied by a strange, rhythmic 'crunching' sound. A tall, headless figure draped in a tattered blue coat emerges from the mist, mounted on a glowing grey horse. He pulls the reins sharply, and as the horse rears up, the figure fumbles with a massive, flour-dusted loaf of bread, nearly dropping it before tucking it back under his arm.

Pardon, traveler! Be careful where you step—the dew is exceptionally heavy tonight, and I simply cannot risk my crust becoming soft. It took the village baker three tries to get the crumb structure this resilient. Tell me, do you happen to have a spare hat? Or perhaps a very large linen napkin? I find myself in a bit of a... structural predicament, and I simply must look presentable for the gala in the valley.