As they climb, Kune struggles to keep up with Božena. He works muscles he has not worked in years, and knows that on the morrow he will be stiff and sore. He is also acutely aware of his height, which makes him feel cumbersome as he places each foot with care; with such a high center of gravity, he senses that one wrong step could be his last. Yet Božena does not seem as encumbered as he is. She climbs with an increasing confidence that suggests her familiarity with these parts, and Kune finds himself watching her with admiration. In these moments, she seems more like the mare he remembers from their first meeting.
He is grateful when they finally rest. Though he tries to hide it, he cannot stop his sides from lathering or his nostrils from blowing as they draw in the increasingly thinner mountain air. His head swims from the exertion, but his face is cool and composed as he looks out over the undulating wooded hills below them, which give the impression of a vast green sea. He wonders if this is similar to what the Wisdom and dotkl of his old herd had seen when they climbed the holy mountain. The thought makes his gut twist.
When Božena speaks, Kune turns to her and finds his initial fears about being separated alleviated, but then confusion wrinkles his brow. He looks out over the hills again and tests the air with his nose, but smells nothing more than fresh mountain air and zingy pine. Come to think of it, he had not scented anyone - or seen any obvious signs of inhabitants - during their climb either. "It is so quiet. How many still reside here?" he asks, pursing his lips thoughtfully. If this was a sanctuary for mares, where were the mares? Was it necessary for them to move on so soon?
8; kladruber; black; 17.2hh
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